The Works of the Rev. Sydney Smith: Including His Contributions to the ...

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I6r

THE WORKS

or

THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH.

VOLUME II.

tOKDOVI
pmlHTSD BT 8POTCTBWOODB AND 00.
SBW-STBXBY SQCABB.

THE WORKS

OP

THE KEV. SYDNEY SMITH

IirCI<T7DIKO HI8 00NTBIBTTTI0N8 TO THX XDIKBUBaK RXVIXW.

IN TWO VOLS.

VOLUME THE SECOND.

LONDON
UOSQMAN, BBOWN, GREEN, LONGMANS, AND ROBERTS.

1859

CONTENTS

or

THE SECOND VOLUME

AKTICLBS OBIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE '^EDmBTJAGH REVIEW.'

PBBSECuTiiro Bishops

BoTAKT Bat ....

Game Laws .....

CsuEL Tbbatmevt of UimuED Prisokbbs .

Amesica .....

MSMOIBS OE Caftain Boce .

Sbntham ok Fallacies

Wateetok .....

Geaitbt .....

HAMiLT0ir*8 Method of teachiito LAFGUAem

COUEBEL EOH PBISOITEBS

Catholics .....

teEB Pltmlbt*b Lettebb .

The Jxtdob that smites coktbaet to the Law .* a Sebmoe

The Lawyhb that tempted Christ : a Sebmoh

Page
1

. 12

. 25

. 82

. 42

. 62

. 69

. 74

. 84

. 92

. 106

. 120

. 135

. 184

. 190

SPEECHES.

Speech at a Mebtikq op the CuiBaT op Cleyblakd . . .197

Speech oh the Catholic Claims . . . . . .201

Speech at the Taunton Bepobm Meeting . . . . .207

Speech at Taunton at a Meeting to celebrate thb Accession op King

William IV. . . . . . . .212

Speech at Taunton in 1831 on the Bjbpobm Bill not being passed . 214

Speech bbspecting the Bjbpobm Bill . . . .215

A Letteb to the Elbctobs upon the Catholic Question .
A Sbbmon on the Bulbs op Chbistian Chabity
Sbbmon on thb Duties of the Queen

228
242
249

VI

CONTENTS.

Page

A Pbaybb . . . . . . . . .254

FiBST Letter to AscsDEACoif Sikgletoit . . . .236

Second ditto . . . . . . . .275

Thisd ditto . . . . . . . . .287

Letteb to Lobd John Bussell . . . . . .297

Letteb ov the Gsabactbb 07 Sib Jaueb Mackintosh . . . S02

The Ballot . . , . . . . . . .805

Letteb to Hb. Hobneb . . . . . . . S19

Lettebs on Railways :—

" Locking in " on RailMrays . . . . . . .821

" Locking in" on BAQways . . . . . . .323

Burning alive on Railroads . . . . . . .825

Lettebs on Akebican Debts :~

The Humble Petition of the Biev. Sydney Smith to the House of Congress at

Washington . . . . . • . .826

Letter L ......... 827

Letter U. . . . . . . • . . SCO

MODEBN ChANOEB . . . . . . . .832

A Pbaoment on the Ibibh Roman Catholic Ghubch . . .833

Indes

343

ARTICLES

OUOIVjILLT rUZlMBKD IV

THE EDINBURGH REVIEW.

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.
(E. Review, 1822.)

1. An Appealto the Legislature andPublic;
or.fhe Legality of the Eighty-Seven Ques-
tions proposed by Dr. Herbert Marsh, the
Bish^ qf Peterborough, to Candidates
for Holy Orders, and for Licences, ioith-
in that Diocese, considered. 2nd Edition.
London, Seeley, 1821.

2. A Speech, delivered in theHotiseofLords^
on Friday, June 7, 1822, by Herbert, Lord
Bishop qf Peterborough, on the Presen-
tation qf a Petition agairut his Exami-
nation Questions; with Explanatory
Notes, a Supplement, and a Copy qf the
Qtiestions, London, Bivington, 1822.

8. The Wrongs of the Clergy cf the Diocese
of Peterborough stated and iUustrated.
By the Bev. T. S. Grimshawe, M.A.,
B«ctor of Burton, Northamptonshire;
and Yicar of Biddenham, Bedfordshire.
London, Seeley, 1822.

4. Episcopal Innovation; or, the Test qf
Modem Orthodoxy, in EightySeven
Questions, impost, as Articles qf Faith,
upon Candidates for Licences and for
Holy Orders, in the Diocese qf Peter-
borough ; wiOi a Distinct Answer to each
Question, and General Btfflections rela-
tive to their lUegal Structure and Per-
nicious Tendency. London, Seeley, 1820.

6. Official Correspondence between the
Bight Reverend Herbert, Lord Bishop qf
Peterborough, and the Rev. John Green,
respecting his Nomination, to the Curacy
<if Blatherwycke, in the Diocese qf Peter-
borough, and County qf Northampton :
Also, between His Grace Charles, Lord
Archbishop cf Canterbury, and the Bev.
Henry William Neville, M.A., Bector qf
Blathertoycke, and qf Cottesmore in the
County qfButland. 1821.

It is a great point in anj qaestion to
clear away encnmbrances, and to make
Vol. II.

a naked circle abont the object in dis-
pute, so that there may be a clear view
of it on every side. In pursuance of
this disencumbering process, we shall
first acquit the Bishop of all wrong
intentions. He has a very bad opinion
of the practical effects of high Cal-
vinlstic doctrines upon the common
people; and he thinks it his duty to
exclude those clergymen who profess
them from his diocese. There is no
moral wrong in this. He has accord-
ingly devised no fewer than eighty-seven
interrogatories, by which he thinks he
can detect the smallest taint of Calvin-
ism that may lurk in the creed of the
candidate; and in this also, whatever
we may think of his reasoning, we sup-
pose his purpose to be blameless. He
believes, finally, that he has legally the
power so to interrogate and exclude;
and in this, perhaps, he is not mis-
taken. His intentions, then, are good,
and his conduct, perhaps, not amenable
to the law. All this we admit in his
favour: but against him we must
maintain, that his conduct upon the
points in dispute has been singularly
injudicious, extremely harsh, and, in
its effects (though not in its intentions),
very oppressive and vexatious to the
Clergy.

We have no sort of intention to avail
ourselves of an anonymous publication
to say unkind, uncivil, or disrespectful
things to a man of rank, learning, and
character — we hope to be guilty of no
such impropriety; but we cannot be-
lieve we are doing wrong in ranging
ourselves on the weaker side, in thQ

B

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

cause of propriety and justice. The
Mitre protects its wearer from indig-
nity] but it does not secure impunity.

It is a strong presumption that a
man is wrong, when all his friends,
whose habits naturally lead them to
coincide with him, think him wrong.
If a man were to indulge in taking
medicine till the apothecary, the drug-
gist, and the physician, all called upon
him to abandon his philocathartic
propensities — if he were to gratify his
convivial habits till the landlord de-
murred, and the waiter shook his head
— we should naturally imagine that
advice so wholly disinterested was not
given before it was wanted, and that it
merited some little attention and re-
spect. Now, though the Bench of
Bishops certainly love power, &r\^ love
the Church, as well as the Bishop of
Peterborough, yet not one defended
him — not one Tose to say, "I have
done, or I would do, the same thing."
It was impossible to be present at the
last debate on this question, without
perceiving that his Lordship stood alone
— and this in a very gregarious pro-
fession, that habitually combines and
butts against an opponent with a very
extended front. If a lawyer is wounded,
the rest of the profession pursue him,
and put him to death. If a church-
man is hbrt, the others gather round
for his protection, stamp with their feet,
push with their horns, and demolish
the dissenter who did the mischief.

The Bishop has at least done a very
unusual thing in his Eighty-seven Ques-
tions. The two Archbishops, and we
believe every other Bishop, and all the
Irish hierarchy, admit curates into their
dioceses without any such precautions.
The necessity of such severe and scru-
pulous inquisition, in short, has been
apparent to nobody but the Bishop of
Peterborough ; and the authorities by
which he seeks to justify it are any-
thing but satisfactory. His Xiordship
states, that forty years ago he was
himself examined by written interro-
gatories, and that he is not the onfy
Bishop who has done it; but he men-
tions no names ; and it was hardly
worth while to state such extremely
slight precedents for so strong a devia-

tion from the common practice of the
Church.

The Bishop who rejects a curate
upon the Eighty-seven Questions is
necessarily and inevitably opposed to
the Bishop who ordained him. The
Bishop of Gloucester ordains a young
man of twenty-three years of age, not
thinking it necessary to put to him
these interrogatories, or putting them,
perhaps, and approving of answers
diametrically opposite to those that are
required by the Bishop of Peter-
borough. The young clergyman then
comes to the last-mentioned Bishop ;
and the Bishop, after putting him to the
Question^ says, "You are unfit for a
clergyman,** — though, ten days before,
the Bishop of Gloucester has made
him one! It is bad enough for ladies
to pull caps, but still worse fof.Bishops
to pull mitres. Nothing can be more
mischievous or indecent than such
scenes; and no man of common pru-
dence, or knowledge of the world, but
must see that they ought immediately
to be put a stop to. If a man is a
captain in the army in one part of
England, he is a captain in alL The
general who commands north of the
Tweed does not say, You shall never
appear in my district, or exercise the
functions of an officer, if you do not
answer eighty-seven questions on the
art of war, according to my notions.
The same officer who commands a ship
of the line in the Mediterranean, is
considered as equal to the same office
in the North Seas. The sixth com-
mandment is suspended, by one medi-
cal diploma, from the north of England
to the south. But, by this new system
of interrogation, a man may be ad-
mitted into orders at Barnet, rejected
at Stevenage, readmitted at Brogden,
kicked out as a Calvinist at Witham
Common, and hailed as an ardent
Armenian on his arrival at York.

It matters nothing to say that sacred
things must not be compared with pro-
fane. In their importance, we allow,
they cannot; but in their order and
discipline they may be so far compared
as to say, that the discrepancy and con-
tention which woald be disgraceful and
pernicious in worldly affain, thoold,

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

8

in common prudence be ayoided in the
affairs of religion. Mr. Greenoagh has
made a map. of England, according to
its geological varieties; — blue for the
chalk, green for the claj, red for the
sand, and so forth. Under this system
of Bishop Marsh, we must petition for
the assistance of the geologist in the
fabrication of an ecclesiastical map.
All the Arminian districts mast be
purple. Green for one theological ex-
tremity — sky-blue for another — as
many colours as there are Bishops —
as many shades of these colours as
there are Archdeacons — a tailor's pat-
tern card ^ the picture of vanity,
fashion, and caprice.

The Bishop seems surprised at the
resistance he meets with; and yet, to
what purpose has he read ecclesiastical
history, "if he expect to meet with any-
thing but the most determined opposi-
tion? Does he think that every sturdy
supralapsarian bullock whom he tries
to sacrifice to the Genius of Orthodoxy,
will not kick, and push, and toss; that
he will not, if he can, shake the axe
from his neck, and hurl his mitred
butcher into the air? His Lordship has
undertaken a task of which he little
knows the labour or the end. We
know these men fully as well as the
Bishop; he has not a chance of success
against them. If one motion in Par-
liament will not do, they will have
twenty. They will ravage, roar, and
msh, till the very chaplains, and the
Masters and Misses Peterborough re-
quest his Lordship to desist He is
raising up a storm in the English Chnrch
of which he has not the slightest con-
ception ; and which will end, as it ought
to end, in his Lordship*s disgrace and
defeat.

The longer we live, the more we are
convinced of the justice of the old
saying, that an ounce of mother wit is
toorih a pound of clergy; that discre-
tion, gentle manners, common sense,
and good nature, are, in men of
high ecclesiastical station, of far greater
importance than the greatest skill in
discriminating between sublapsarian
and supralapsarian doctrines. Bishop
Marsh should remember, that all men
wearing the mitre work by character, I

as well as doctrine; that a tender re-
gard to men's rights and feelings^ a
desire to avoid sacred squabbles, a fond*
ness for quiet, and an ardent wish to
make everybody happy, would be of far
more valae to the Church of England
than all his learning and vigilance of
inquisition. The Irish Tithes will pro*
bably fall next session of Parliament;
the common people are regularly re-
ceding from the Chnrch of England
— ^baptizing, burying, and confirming
for themselves. Under such circum-
stances, what would the worst enemy of
the English Church require? — a bitter,
bustling, theological Bishop, accused
by his clergy of tyranny and oppres-
sion — the cause of daily petitions and
daily debates in the House of Commons
— the idoneous vehicle of abuse against
the Establishment — a stalking-horse to
bad men for the introduction of revo-
lutionary opinions, mischievous ridicule,
and irreligious feelings. Such will be
the advantages which Bishop Marsh
will secure -for the English Establish-
ment in the ensuing session. It is in-
conceivable how such a prelate shakes
all the upper works of the Church, and
ripens it for dissolution and decay. Six
such Bishops, multiplied by eighty-
seven, and working with five hundred
and twenty-two questions, would fetch
everything to the ground in less than
six months. But what if it pleased
Divine Providence to afflict every pre-
late with the spirit of putting eighty-
seven queries, and the two Archbishops
with the spirit of putting twice as many,
and the Bishop of Sodor and Man'
with the spirit of putting only forty-
three queries? — there would then be a
grand total of two thousand three
hundred and thirty-five interrogations
Oying about the English Church ; and
sorely vexed would the land be with
Question and Answer.

We will suppose this learned Prelate,
without meanness or undue regard to
his world^ interests, to feel that fair
desire of rising in his profession, which
any man, in any profession, may feel
without disgrace. Does he forget that
his character in the ministerial circles
will soon become that of a violent im-
practicable man — whom it is impos-

B 2

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

Bible to place in the highest situations —
who has been trusted with too much
fih^adj, and must be trasted with no
more? Ministers have something else
to do with their time, and with the time
of Parliament, than to waste them in de-
bating squabbles between Bishops and
their Clergy. They naturally wish, and,
on the whole, reasonably expect, that
everything should go on silently and
quietly in the Church. They have no
objection to a learned Bishop; but they
' deprecate one atom more of learning
than is compatible with moderation,
good sense, and the soundest discre-
tion. It must be the grossest igno-
rance of the world to suppose that the
Cabinet has any pleasure in watching
Calvinists.

The Bishop not only puts the ques-
tions, bat he actually assigns the limits
within which they are to be answered.
Spaces are left in the paper of interro-
gations, to which limits the answer is
to be confined ; — ^two inches to origi-
nal sin : an inch and a half to justifica-
tion ; three quarters to predestination ;
and to free will only a qoarter of an
inch. But if his Lordship gives Uiem
an inch, they will take an ell. His
Lordship is himself a theological writer,
and by no means remarkable for his
conciseness. To deny space to his bro-
ther theologians, who are writing on
the most difficult subjects, not from
choice, but necessity; not for fame,
but for bread ; and to award rejection
as the penalty of prolixity, does appear
to us no slight deviation from Chris-
tian gentleness. The tyranny of call-
ing for such short answers is very
strikingly pointed out in a letter from
Mr. Thurtell to the Bishop of Peter-
borough; the style of which pleads,
we think, very powerfully in favour of
the writer.

" Beccles, BuffdOc, August 23^, 182L

« My Lord.

" I ought, in the first place, to apologise
for. delaying so long to answer your Lord-
ship's letter : hut the difficulty in which I
was involved, by receiving another copy of
your Lordship's Questions, with positive
directions to give short answers, may be
sufficient to account for that delay.

" It is my sincere desire to meet your Lord-

shijj's wishes, and to obey your Lordship's
diroctions in every particular ; and I would
therefore immediately have returned an-
swers, without «dlj * restrictions or modifi-
cations,' to the Questions which your Lord-
ship has thought fit to send me, if, in so
doing, I could have discharged the obliga-
tions of my conscience, by showing what
my opinions really are. But it appears to
me, that the Questions proposed to me by
your Lordship are so constructed as to elicit
only two sets of opinions; and that, by
answering them in so concise a manner, I
should be representing myself to your Lord-
ship as one who believes in either of two
particular creeds, to neither of which I do
realljf subscribe. For instance, to answer
Question L chap. ii. in the manner your
Lordship desires, I am reduced to the alter-
native of declaring, either that ' mankind
are a mass of mere corruption,' which ex-
presses more than I intend, or of leaving
room for the inference, that they are only
partiaUy ixampty which is opposed to the
plainest declarations of the Homilies ; such
as these, ' Man is altogether spotted and
defiled' (Hom. on Nat.), ' without a epark
of goodness in him ' (Serm. on Mis. of Man,
Ac).

" Again, by answering the Questions com-
prised in the chapter on ' Free Will,' accord-
ing to your Lordship's directions, I am
compelled to acknowledge, either that man
has such a share in the work of his own
salvation as to exclude the sole agency of
God, or that he has no share whatever ;
when the Homilies for Rogation Week and
Whitsunday positively declare, that God is
the * only Worker,* or, in other words, s(de
Agent ; and at the same time assign to man
a certain share in the work of his own sal-
vation. In short, I could, with your Lord-
ship's permission, point out twenty Ques-
tions, involving doctrines of the utmost
importance, which I am unable to answer,
so as to convey my real sentiments, without
more room for explanation than the printed
sheet affords.

** In this view of the subject, therefore,
and in the most deliberate exercise of my
judgment, I deem it indispensable to my
acting with that candour and truth with
which it is my wish and duty to act, and
with which I cannot but believe your Lord-
ship desires I should act, to state my opi-
nions in that language which expresses
them most fUlly, plainly, and unreservedly.
This I have endeavoured to do in the an-
swers now in the possession of your Lord-
ship. If any further explanation be re*
quired, I am most willing to give it, even
to a minuteness of opinion beyond what the
Articles require. At the same time, I would

PERSECUTING BISHQPS.

humbly and reepectftilly appeal to your
Lordship's candour, whetJter U If not hard
to demand my decided opinion upon points
which have been the themes of volumes;
upon which the most pious and learned
men of the Church have conscientious
differed ; and upon whu^ the Artides, in
the judgment qf Bishop Burnet, have pro-
nounced no definite sentence. To those
Articles, my Lord, I hare already subscribed;
andl Mn willing again to subscribe to every
one of them, ' in its literal and grammatical
sense,' according to His Majesty's declara-
tion prefixed to them.

**1 hope, therefore, in consideration of
the above statement, that your Lordship
will not compel me, by the condseness of
my answers, to assent to doctrines which I
do not believe, or to expose myself to infers
enoes which do not fairly and legitimately
follow from my opinions.

" I am, my Lord, &c. Ac."

We are not much acquainted with
the practices of courts of justice ; but^
if we remember right, when a man is
going to be hanged, the judge lets him
make his defence in his owli way,
without complaining of its length. We
should think a Christian Bishop might
be equally indulgent to a man who is
going to be ruined. The answers are
required to be clear, concise, and cor-
rect — short, plain, and positive. In
other words, a poor curate, extremely
agitated at the idea of losing his live-
lihood, is required to write with bre-
vity and perspicuity on the following
subjects : — Bedemption by Jesus Christ
— Original Sin — Free Will — Justifica-
tion - Justification in reference to its
Causes — Justification in reference to
the time when it takes place — Ever-
lasting Salvation — Predestination —
Begeneration on the New Birth — Re-
novation, and the Holy Trinity. As
a specimen of these questions, the an-
swer to which is required to be so brief
and clear, we shall insert the following
quotation : —

" Section II,—CfJustificationt in nferenee
to its cause,

** "L Dora not the eleventh Article de-
clare, tbat we are 'justified by
Faith ofOy?'

** 2. Does not the expression ' Palth only '
derive additional strength from the
negative expression in the same

Article ' and not for our own
works?* ,

** 8. Does not therefore the eleventh Ar-
ticle exclude good works fh>m all
share in the office of Justifyii^?
Or can we so construe the term
' Paith' in that Article, as to mkke
it include good works ?

** 4 Do not the twelfth and thirteenth
Articles fkirther exclude themi, the
one by asserting that good works
/o22(Hoc|/V0r Justification, the other
by maintaining that they cannot
precede it?

" 5. Can that which nerer precedes an
effect be reckoned among the causes
of that effect?

" 6. Can we then, consistently with our
Articles, reckon the performance of
good works among the causes of
Justification, whatever qualifying
epithet be used with the term
cause 7 **

We entirely deny that the Calvinis-
tical Clergy are bad members of their
profession. We maintain that as many
instances of good, serious, and pious
men— of persons zealously interesting
themselves in the temporal and spiri-
tual welfare of their parishioners, are
to be found among them, as among the
clergy who put an opposite interpreta-
tion on the Articles. The Articles of
Religion are older than Arminianism,
eo nomine. The early Reformers '
leant to Calvinism ; and would, to a
man, have answered the Bishop*s ques-
tions in a way which would have
induced him to refuse them ordination
and curacies ; and those who drew up
the Thirty-nine Articles, if they had
not prudently avoided all precise in-
terpretation of their Creed on free will,
necessity, absolute decrees, original sin,
reprobation, and election, would have,
in all probability, given an interpreta-
tion of them like that which the Bishop
considers as a disqualification for Holy
Orders. Laud's Lambeth Articles were
illegal, mischievous, and are generally
condemned. The Irish Clergy in 1 64 1
drew up one hundred and four articles
as the creed of their Church ; and these
are Calvinistic and not Arminian.
They were approved and signed by
Usher, and never abjured by him;
though dropt as a test or qualification.
Usher was promoted (even in the days

B 3

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

of Arminianism) to bishoprics and
archbishoprics — ^so little did a Calvi-
nistic interpretation of the Articles in
a man*8 own breast, or even an avowal
of Calvinism beyond what was required
bj the Articles, operate even then as a
disqualification for the cure of souls,
or any other office in the Church.
Throughout Charles II. and William
IIL's time, the best men and greatest
names of the Church not only allowed
latitude in interpreting the Articles,
but thought it would be wise to di-
minish their number, and render them
more lax than they are ; and be it ob-
served that these, latitudinarians leant
to Arminianism rather than to high
Calvinism; and thought, consequently,
that the Articles, if objectionable at all,
were exposed to the censure of being
** too Calvinistic," rather than too Ar-
minian. How preposterous, therefore,
to twist them, and the subscription to
them required by law, by the machinery
of a long string of explanatory ques-
tions, into a barrier against Calvinists,
and to give the Arminians a monopoly
in the Church I

Archbishop Wake, in 1716, after
consulting all the Bishops then attend-
ing Parliament, thought it incumbent on
, him •* to employ the authority which the
ecclesiastical laws then in force, and the
custom and laws of the realm vested in
him" in taking care that ^no unworthy
person might hereafter be admitted into
the sacred Ministry of the Church; " and
he drew up twelve recommendations to
the Bishops of England, in which he
earnestly exhorts them not to ordain
persons of bad conduct or character, or
incompetent learning ; but he does not
require from the candidates for Holy
Orders or preferment any explanation
whatever of the Articles which they
had signed.

The Correspondence of the same
eminent Prelate with Professor Tur-
retin in 1718, and with Mr. Le Clerc
and the Pastors and Professors of Ge-
neva in 1719, printed in London, 1782,
recommends union among Protestants,
and the omission of controverted points
in Confessions of Faith, as a means of
obtaining that union ; and a constant
reference to the practice of the Church

of England is made, in elucidation of
the charity and wisdom of such policy.
Speaking of men who act upon a con-
trary principle he says, O quantum
potuit insana tpiKavria !

These passages, we think, are con-
clusive evidence of the practice of the
Church till 1719. For Wake was not
only at the time Archbishop of Canter-
bury, but both in his circular recom-
mendations to the Bishops of England,
and in his correspondence with foreign
Churches, was acting in the capacity of
metropolitan of the Anglican Church.
He, a man of prudence and learning,
publicly boasts to Protestant Europe,
that his Church does not exact, and that
he de facto has never avowed, and never
will, his opinions on those very points
upon which Bishop Marsh obliges every
poor curate to be explicit, upon pain
of expulsion from the Church.

It is clear, then, the practice was to
extract subscription, and nothing else,
as the test of orthodoxy — to that Wake
is an evidence. As far as he is autho-
rity on a point of opinion, it is his con-
viction that this practice was whole-
some, wise, and intended to preserve
peace in the Church ; that it would bo
wrong at least, if not illegal, to do
otherwise ; and that the observance of
this forbearance is the only method
of preventing schism. The Bishop of
Peterborough, however, is of a different
opinion ; he is so thoroughly convinced
of the pernicious effects of Calvinistic
doctrines, that he does what no other
Bishop does, or ever did do, for their
exclusion. This may be either wise or
injudicious, but it is at least zealous
and bold ; it is to encounter rebuke,
and opposition, from a sense of duty.
It is impossible to deny this merit to
his Lordship. And we have no doubt,
that, in pursuance of the same theolo-
gical gallantry, he is preparing a set
of interrogatories for those clergymen
who are presented to benefices in his
diocese. The patron will have his
action of Quare impedit, it is true ; and
the judge and jury will decide whether
the Bishop has the right of interro-
gation at all; and whether Calvinistical
answers to his interrogatories disqualify
any man from holding preferment in

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

the Chnrch of England. If either
of these points are given against the
Bishop of Peterborough, he is in honour
and conscience bound to give up his
examination of curates. If CalTinistic
ministers are, in the estimation of the
Bishops, so dangerous as cbrates, they
are, of course, much more dangerous
as rectors and vicars. He has as much
right to examine one as the other.
Why, then, does he pass over the
greater danger, and guard against the
less ? Why does he not show his zeal
when he would run some risk, and
where the excluded person (if excluded
unjustly) could appeal to the laws of
his country? If his conduct be just
and right, has he anything to fear from
that appeal ? What should we say of
a police officer, who acted in all cases
of petty larceny, where no opposition
was made, and let off all persons guilty
of felony who threatened to knock him
down ? If the Bishop value his own
character, he is bound to do Lss, — or
to do more. God send his choice may
be right! The law, as it stands at
present, certainly affords very unequal
protection to rector and to curate ; but
if the Bishop will not act so as to im-
prove the law, the law must be so
changed as to improve the Bishop ; an
action of Quare impedit must be given
to the curate also — and then the fury
of interrogation will be calmed.

We are aware that the Bishop of
Peterborough, in his speech, disclaims
the object of excluding the Calvin ists
by this system of interrogation. We
shall take no other notice of his dis-
avowal than expressing our sincere re-
gret that he ever made it; but the ques-
tion is not at all altered by the inten-
tion of the interrogator. Whether he
aim at the Calvinists only, or includes
them with other heterodox respondents
— ^the fact is, they are included in the
proscription, and excluded from the
Church, the practical effect of the prac-
tice being that men are driven out of
the Chnrch who have as much right
to exercise the duties of clergymen
as the Bishop himself. If heterodox
opinions are the great objects of the
Bishop's apprehensions, he has his Eccle-
siastical Courts, where regular process

may bring the offender to punishment,
and from whence there is an appeal to
higher courts. This would be the fair
thing to do. The curate and the
Bishop would be brought into the light
of day, and subjected to the wholesome
restraint of public opinion.

His Lordship boasts that he has ex-
cluded only two curates. So the Em-
peror of Hayti boasted that he had
only cut off two persons' head^ for dis-
agreeable behaviour at his table. In spite
of the paucity of the visiters executed,
the example operated as a considerable
impediment to conversation ; and the
intensity of the punishment was found
to be a full compensation for its rarity.
How many persons have been deprived
of curacies which they might have en-
joyed but for the tenonr of these inter-
rogatories? How many respectable
clergymen have been deprived of the
assistance of curates connected with
them by blood, friendship, or doctrine,
and compelled to choose persons for no
other qualification than that they could
pass through the eye of the Bishop's
needle ? Violent measures are not to
be judged of merely by the number of
times they have been resorted to, but by
the terror, misery, and restraint which
the severity is likely to have produced.

We never met with any style so en-
tirely clear of all redundant and vicious
ornament as that which the ecclesias-
tical Lord of Peterborough has adopted
towards his clergy. It, in fact, may 1)e
all reduced to these few words — " Be-
verend Sir, I shall do what I please.
Peterborough."— Even in the House of
Xiords, he speaks what we must call
very plain language. Among other
things, he says that the allegations of
the petitions are false* Now, as e^ery
Bishop is, besides his other qualities, a
gentleman ; and as the word false is
used only by laymen who mean to
hazard their lives by the expression ; and
as it cannot be supposed that foul lan-
guage is ever used because it can be
used with personal impunity, his Lord-
ship must therefore be intended to
mean not false, but mistaken — ^not a
wilful deviation from truth, but an
accidental and unintended departure
from it.

^4

8

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

His Lordship talks of the drudgery
of wading through ten pages of an-
swers to his eighty-seven questions.
Who has occasioned this drudgery,
but the person who means to be so
much more active, useful, and impor-
tant, than all other Bishops, by pro-
posing questions which nobody has
thought to be necessary but himself?
But to be intolerably strict and harsh
to a poor curate, who is trying to earn
a morsel of hard bread, and then to
complain of the drudgery of reading

' his answers, is much like knocking a
man down with a bludgeon, and then
abusing him for splashing you with his
blood, and pestering yon with his
groans. It is quite monstrous, that a
man who inflicts eighty -seven new
questions in Theology upon his fellow-
creatures, should talk of the drudgery
of reading their answers.

A Curate — there is something which
excites compassion in the very name
of a Curate ! I ! How any man of
Purple, Palaces, and Preferment, can

* let himself loose against this poor
working man of God, we are at a loss
to conceive, — a learned man in an
hovel, with sermons and saucepans,
lexicons and bacon, Hebrew books and
ragged children — good and patient —
a comforter and a preacher — the first
and purest pauper in the hamlet, and
yet showing, that, in the midst of his
worldly misery, he has the heart of a
gentleman, and the spirit of a Chris-
tian, and the kindness of a pastor ;
and this man, though he has exercised
the duties of a clergyman for twenty
years — though he has most ample tes-
tiihonies of conduct from clergymen
as respectable as any Bishop — though
an Archbishop add his name to the
list of witnesses, is not good enough
for Bishop Marsh ; but is pushed out
in the street, with his wife and children,
and his little furniture, to surrender his
honour, his faith, his conscience, and
his learning— or to starve !

An obvious objection to these inno-
vations is, that there can be no end to
them. If eighty-three questions are as-
sumed to be necessary by one Bishop,
eight hundred may be considered as the
minimum of interrogation by another.

When once the ancient faith-marks of
the Church are lost sight of and
despised, any misled theologian may
launch out on the boundless sea of
polemical vexation.

The Bishop of Peterborough is po-
sitive, that the Arminian interpretation
of the Articles is the right interpreta-
tion, and that Calvinists should be
excluded from it ; but the country
gentlemen who are to hear these mat-
ters debated in the Lower House, are
to remember, that other Bishops have
written upon these points before the
Bishop of Peterborough, and have
arrived at conclusions diametrically
opposite. When curates are excluded
because their answers are Calvinis-
tical, a careless layman might imagine
that this interpretation of the Articles
had never been heard of before in the
Church — that it was a gross and pal-
pable perversion of their sense, which
had been scouted by all writers on
Church matters, from the day the
Articles were promulgated, to this hour
— that such an unheard-of monster as
a Calvinistical Curate had never leapt
over the pale before, and been detected
browsing in the sacred pastures.

The following is the testimony of
Bishop Sherlock : —

" * The Church has left a latitude of sense
to prevent schisms and breaches upon
eveiy different opinion. It is evident the
Church of England has so done in some
Articles, which are most liable to the hot-
test disputes; which yet are penned with
that temper as to be willii^^ subscribed
by men of different apprehensions in those
matters.'" — (SheblocIl** D^enoe qf
SHUingfle^s Unreasonableness qfSeparc^
Hon.)

Bishop Cleaver, describing the diffi-
culties attending so great an under-
taking as the formation of a national
creed, observes : —

^' These difficulties, however, do not
seem to have disoouraged the great leaders
in this work from forming a design as wise
as it was liberal, that of flnmiiig a confes-
sion, which in the enumeration and method
of its several articles, should meet the ap-
probation, and engage the consent of the
whole reformed world.

** ' If upon trial it was found that a com-
prehension so extenalTe oould not be re*

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

dnoed to practice, still as large a compre-
hension as could be contrived, within the
narrower limits of the kingdom, became, for
the same reasons which first suggested the
idea, at once an object of prudence and
duty in the formation and government of
the English Church.'

** After dwelling on the means necessary
to accomplish this object, the Bishop pro-
ceeds to remark : —* Such evidently appears
to have been the origin, and such the actual
complexion of the confession comprised in
the Articles of our Church ; the true eoope
and design qf which wiU not, I conceive, be
eorreeUy apprehended in any other view
than that cf one drawn up and adSutted
with an intention to comprehend the assent
€f dU, rather than to exclude that qf any
who concurred in the necessity qf a r^or-
motion,

** ' The means of comprehensicm intended
were, not any general ambiguity or equivo-
cation of terms, bui a prudent forbearance
in cM parties not to insist on theftUl extent
qf their opinions in matters not essential
or fundamental ; and in all cases to waive, I
as much as possible, tenets which might di-
vide, where they wish tounite,' ** (Bemarks
on the Design and Formation of the Articles
of the Church of England, by William,
Lord Bishop of Bangor, 1802.— pp. 28—25.)

We will finish with Bishop Horsley.

** It has been the foshion of late to talk
about Arminianism as the system of the
Church of England, and of Calvinism as
something opposite to it, to which the
Church is hostile. That I may not be mis-
understood in what I have stated, or may
have occasion further to say upon this
subject, I must here declare, that I use the
words Arminianism and Calvinism in that
restricted sense in which they are now
generally taken, to denote the doctrinal
part of each system, as unconnected with
the principles either of Arminians or
Gblvinists, upon Church discipline and
Church government. This being premised,
I assert, what I often have before asserted,
and by God's grace I will persist in the
assertion to my dying day, that so fiEur is it
from the truth that the Church of Eng-
land is decidedly Arminian, and hostile to
Calvinism, that the truth is this, that upon
the principal poitUs in dispute between the
Arminians and the CaUnnists—upon all
the points qf doctrine characteristic qf
the two sects, the Church (^England main-
tains an absolute neutrality; her Articles
erpUcitly assert nothingbuiwhatis believed
both by Arminians and by CaUnnists.
The Calviniste indeed hold some opinions
relative to the same points* which the

Church of England has not gone the length
of asserting in hor Articles; but neither
has she gone the length of explicitly contra-
dicting those opinions; insomuch, that
there is naUiing to hinder the Arminian
and the highest supralapsarian Calvinist
from walking together in the Church qf
Bngland and Inland as friends and bro^
thers, if they both approve the discipline qf
the Church, and both are willing to submit
to it. Her discipline has been approved ; it
has been submitted to ; it has been in former
times most ably and zealously defended by
the highest supralapsarian Calvinists. Such
was the great Usher ; such was Whitgift ;
such were many more, burning and shining
lights of our Church in her early days (when
first she shook off the Papal tyranny), long
since gone to the resting-place of the spirits
ofthe ju9t."— (£i«Aop HossLXY'tf Charges,
p. 218.— pp. 25, 26.)

So that these unhappy Curates are
tamed out of their bread for an expo-
sition of the Articles which such men
as Sherlock, Cleaver, and Horsley
think maj be fairly given of their
meaning. We do not quote their au-
thority, to show that the right inter-
pretation is decided, but that it is
doubtful — that there is a balance of
authorities — that the opinion which
Bishop Marsh has punished with po-
verty and degradation, has been con-
sidered to be legitimate by men at
least as wise and learned as himself.
In fact, it is to us perfectly clear, that
the Articles were originally framed to
prevent the very practices which Bishop
Marsh has used for their protection ^-
they were purposely so worded, that
Arminians and Calvinists could sign
them without blame. They were in-
tended to combine both these descrip-
tions of Protestants, and were meant
principally for a bulwark against the
Catholics.

"Thus," says Bishop Burnet, "was the
doctrine of the Church cast into a short and
plain form; in which they took care both
to establish the positive articles of religion
and tocut off the errors formerly introduced
in the time of Popery, or of late broached
by the Anabaptists and enthusiasts of
Germany ; avoiding the niceties qf schooU
men, or theperemptoriness qf the writers qf
controversy; leaving, in matters that are
more justly controvertible, a liberty to di*
vines to follow their private opinions with'
out thereby disturbing the peace qf the

IQ PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

CAtewA.** — (History of the Eeformation, i opinions upon other people.

~ * " ^■^'~ ^ was purposely left indefinite,

make finite and exclusive.

Book L part u. p. 168, folio edition.)
The next authority is that of Fuller.

•* In the Convocation now sitting, wherein
Alexander Nowel, Dean of St. Paul's, was
Prolocutor, the nine-and-thirty Articles
were composed. Por the main they agree
with those set forth in the reign of King
Edward the Sixth, though in some particu-
lars allowing more hberty to dissenting
judgments. For instance, in this King's
Articles it is said, that it is to he believed
that Christ went down to hell (to preach
to the spirits there) ; which hist clause is
left out in these Articles, and men left to a
latitude concerning the cause, time, and
manner of his descent.

« Hence some have unjustly taxed the
composers for too much favour extended in
their large expressions, clean through the
contexture of these Articles, which should
have tied men's consciences up closer, in
more strict and particularislngpropositions,
which indeed proceeded from their com-
mendable moderation. Children's clothes
ought to be made of the biggest, because
afterwards their bodies, will grew up to
their garments. Thus the Articles of this
English Pretestant Chureh, in the infancy
thereof, they thought good to draw up in
general terms, foreseeing that posterity
would grow up to fill the same : I mean
these holy men did prudently predisoover,
that differences in judgments would un-
avoidably happen hi the Chureh, and were
loath to unchurch any, and drive them off
from an eeeUHasticalcommwnion^for 8uc\
petty differences, which made them pen the
Articles in comprehensive words, to take
in aU who, differing in the branches, meet
in the root of the same religion,

** Indeed most of them had formerly been
sufferers themselves, and cannot be said, in
compihng these Articles, (an acceptable
service, no doubt,) to offer to God what cost
them nothing, some having paid imprison-
ment, others exile, all losses in their es-
tates, for this their experimental knowledge
in religion, which made them the more mer-
ciful and tender in stating those points,
seeing such who themselves have been most
Ijatient in bearing, will be most pitiful in
burdening the consciences of others."— (See
PuLLES's Church History, book ix. p. 72,
folio edit.)

But this generous and pacific spirit
gives no room for the display of zeal
and theological learning. The gate of
admission has been left too widely
open. I may as well be without
power at all, if I cannot force my

What
I must
Ques-
tions of contention and difierence must
be laid before the servants of the
Church, and nothing like neutrality in
theological metaphysics allowed to the
ministers of the Gospel. / came not
to bring peacCf &c.

The Bishop, however, seems to be
quite satisfied with himself, when be
states, that he has a right to do what he
has done — just as if a man's character
with his fellow-creatures depended
upon legal rights alone, and not upon
a discreet exercise of those rights. A
man may persevere in doing' what he
has a right to do, till the Chancellor-
shuts him up in Bedlam, or till the mob
pelt him as he passes. It must be
presumed, that all men whom the law
has invested with rights, Nature has
invested with common sense to use
those rights. For these reasons, chil-
dren have no rights till they have
gained some common sense, and old
men have no rights after they lose
their common sense. All men are at
all 'times accountable to their fellow-
creatures for the discreet exercise of
every right they possess.

Prelates are fond of talking of my
see, my clergy, my diocese, as if these
things belonged to them, as thei|; pigs
and dogs belonged to them. They
forget that the clergy, the diocese, and
the Bishops themselves, Bll exist only
for the public good ; that the public
are a third, and principal party in the
whole concern. It is not simply the tor-
menting Bishop versus the tormented
Curate, but the public against the system
of tormenting; as tending to bring scan-
dal upon religion and religious men.
By the late alteration in the laws, the
labourers in the vineyard are given up
to the power of the inspectors of the
vineyard. If he have the meanness
and malice to do so, an inspector may
worry and plague to death any la-
bourer against whom he may have
conceived an antipathy. As often as
such cases are detected, we believe they
will meet, in either House of Parlia-
ment, with the severest reprehension.
The noblemen and gentlemen of £ng-

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

11

Jand will never allow their parish
clergj to be treated with craeltj, in-
justice, and caprice, by men who were
parish clergymen themselves yester-
day; and who were trusted with power
for very different purposes. .

The Bishop of Peterborough com-
plains of the insolence of the answers
made to him. This is certainly not
true of Mr. Grimsbawe, Mr. Neville,
or of the author of the Appeal. They
have answered his Lordship with great
force, great manliness, but with perfect
respect. Does the Bishop expect that
humble men, as learned as himself, are
to be driven from their houses and
homes by his new theology, and then
to send him letters of thanks for the
kicks and cuffs he has bestowed upon
them? Men of very small incomes.

be it known to his Lordship, have very
often very acute feelings ; and a Curate
trod on feels a pang as great as when
a Bishop is refuted.

We shall now give a specimen of
some answers, which, we believe, would
exclude a curate from the diocese of
Peterborough, and contrast these an-
swers with the 'Articles of the Church
to which they refer. The 9th Article
of the Church of England is upon
Original Sin. Upon this point his
Lordship puts the following question :—

" Did the fall of Adam produce such an
effect on his posterity, that mankind be-
came thereby a mass of mere corruption,
or of absolute and entire depravity? Or
is the effect only such, that we are very /ar
ffons firom original righteousness, and of
our own nature inclined to evil P "

ExclucUing Answer.
*'The fall of Adam pro-
duced such an effect on hUi
posterity, that mankind be-
came thereby a mass of mere
corruption, or of absolute and
entire depravity.'

**

The Ninth AHicle,
** Original sin standeth not in the foUowii^ of Adam
(as the Pelagians do vainly talk) ; but it is the ftuilt or
OOTTuption of the nature of every man, that naturally is
engendered of the offspring of Adam, whereby man is
very far gone from original righteousness, and is of his
own nature inclined to evil, so that the flesh lusteth
always contrary to the spirit; and therefore, in every
person bom into the world, it deserveth Gtod's wrath and
damnation.*'

The 9th Question, Cap. Srd, on Prep
Will, is as follows : — " Is it not contrary

to Scripture to say, that man has no
share in the work of his salvation?"

Excluding Anewer.
" It is quite agreeable to
Scripture to say, that man
has no share in the work of
his own salvation."

Tenth Article,
" The condition of man after the Ml of Adam is such,
that he cannot turn and prepare himself, by his own
natund strength and good works, to faith, and calling
upon Qod. Wherefore, we have no power to do good
works pleasant and aooeptable to God, without the
grace of God by Christ preventing us, that we may have
a good will, and working with us when we have that
goodwiU."

On Redemption, his Lordship has
the following question, Cap. 1st, Ques-

tion Ist: — "Did Christ die for all men,
or did he die only for a chosen few?"

Excluding Anewer.
** Christ did not die for aU
men, but only for a chosen
few."

Part qf Article Seventh.
" Predestination to life is the everlasting purpose of
God, whereby (before the foundations of the world were
laid) he hath constantly decreed by his counsel, secret
to us, to deliver from curse and damnation those whom
he hath chosen in Christ out of mankind, and to bring
them 1^ Christ unto everlasting salvation, as vessels
made to honour."

Now, whether these answers are
right or wrong, we do not presume to
decide ; but we cannot help saying,
there appears to be some little colour

in the language of the Articles for the
errors of the respondent. It does not
appear at first sight to be such a devia-
tion from the plain, literal, and gram-

12

BOTANY BAY.

matical sense of the Articles, as to
merit rapid and ignominious ejectment
from the bosom of the Charch.

Now we have done with the Bishop.
We give him all he fisks as to his legal
right ; and onlj contend, that he is
acting a very indiscreet and injudicious
part — fatal to his quiet — fatal to his
reputation as a man of sense — blamed
bj Ministers — blamed by all the Bench
of Bishops — vexations to the Clergy,
and highly injurious to the Church.
We mean no personal disrespect to the
Bishop ; we are as ignorant of him aJB
of his victims. We should have been
heartily glad if the debate in Parlia-
ment had put an end to these blamable
excesses ; and our only object, in med-
dling with the question, is to restrain
the arm of Power within the limits of
moderation and justice — one of the
great objects which first led to the
establishment of this Journal, and
which, we hope, will always continue
to' characterise its efforts.

BOTANY BAY.
(E. Review, 1823.)

1. Letter to Earl Bathurtt. By the Honour-
able H. Grey Bennet, M.P.

2. Seportqfthe Commiwioner qf Inquiry
into the State qf the Colony qfNew South
Wales, Ordered by the House cf Com^
mons to be printed, 19th June, 1822.

Mb. Bioob's Report is somewhat long,
and a little clumsy; but it is altogether
the production of an honest, sensible,
and respectable man, who lias done his
duty to the public, and justified the ex-
pense of his mission to the fifth or
pickpocket quarter of the globe.

What manner of man is Governor
Macquarrie ? — Is all that Mr. Bennet
says of him in the House of Commons
true? These are the questions which
Lord Bathurst sent Mr. Bigge, and
very properly sent him, 28,000 miles to
answer. The answer is, that Governor
Macquarrie is not a dishonest man, nor
a jobber j but arbitrary, in many things
scandalously negligent, very often
wrong-headed, and, upon the whole,
very deficient in that good sense and

vigorous understanding, which his new
and arduous situation so manifestly
requires.

Ornamental architecture in Botany
Bay! How it could enter into the
head of any human being to adorn
public buildings at the Bay, or to aim
at any other architectural purpose but
the exclusion of wind and rain, we are
utterly at a loss to conceive. Such an
expense is not only lamentable for the
waste of property it makes in the par-
ticular instance, but because it destro3r8
that guarantee of sound sense which
the Government at home must require
in those who preside over distant
colonies. A man who thinks of pillars
and pilasters, when half the colony are
wet through for want of any covering
at all, cannot be a wise or prudent
person. He seems to be ignorant, that
the prevention of rheumatism in all
young colonies is a much more impor-
tant object than the gratification of
taste, or the display of skilL

"I suggested to Governor Macquarrie
the expediency of stopping all work then in
progress that was merely of an ornamental
nature, and of postponing its execution
till other more important buildings were
finished. With this view it was, that I re-
commended to the Governor to stop the
progress of a large church, the foundation
of which had been laid previous to my
arrival, and which, by the estimate of Mr.
Greenway the architect, would have re-
quired six years to complete. By a change
that I recommended, and which the Go-
vernor adopted, in the destination of the
new Court-house at Sydney, the accommo*
dation of a new charch is probably by this
time secured. As I conceived that consi-
derable advantage had been gained by in-
ducing Governor Macquarrie to suspend
the progress of the larger church, I did not
deem it necessary to make any pointed ob-
jection to the addition of these ornamental
parts of the smaller one ; though I regretted
to observe in this instance, as well as in
those of the new stables at Sydney, the
turnpike gate-house and the new fountain
there, ss well as in the repairs of an old
church at Paramatta, how much more the
embellishment of these places had been
considered by the Governor than the real
and pressing wants of the colony. The
buildings that I had recommended to his
early attention tn Sydney were, a new
gaol, a Bohool-house, and a market-house.

BOTANY BAT.

18

The defects of the first of these buildings
will be moire luurticularly pointed out when
I oome to describe the buildings that have
been erected in New South Wales. It is
sufficient for me now to observe, that they
were striking, and of a nature not to be
remedied by additions or repairs. The other
two were in a state of absolute ruin ; they
were also of undeniable importance and
necessity. Having lefb Sydney in the month
of November, 1820, with these impressions,
and with a belief that the suggestions I had
made to GovOTnor Macquarrie respecting
them had been partly acted upon, and
would continue to be so during my absence
in Yan Diemen's Land, it was not without
much surprise and regret that I learnt,
during my residence in that settlement,
the resumption of the work at the large
church in Sydney, and the steady continua-
tion of the others that I had objected to,
especially the Governor's stables at Sydn^.
I felt the greater surprise in receiving the
information respecting this last-mentioned
structure, during my absence in Yan Die-
men's Land, as the Governor himself had,
upon many occasions, expressed to me his
own regret at having ever sanctioned it,
and his consciousness of its extravagant
dimensions and ostentatious character.'*—
(Report, pp. 61, 52.)

One of the great difficulties in
Botany Bay is to find proper employ-
ment for the great mass of convicts
who are sent out. Governor Mac-
quarrie selects all the best artisans, of
every description, for the use of GoTem-
ment; and puts the poets, attomies,
and politicians ap to auction. The
evil consequences of this are manifold.
In the first place, from possessing so
many of the best artificers, the Governor
is necessarily, turned into a builder j
and immense drafts are drawn upon
the Treasury at home, for buildings
better adapted for Regent Street than
the Bay. In the next place, the poor
settler finding that the convict attorney
is very awkward at cutting timber, or
catching kangaroos, soon returns him
upon the hands of Government in a
much worse plight than that in which
he was received. Not only are gover-
nors thus debauched into useless and
expensive builders, hut the colonists
who are scheming and planning with
all the activity of new settlers, cannot
find workmen to execute their designs.

What two ideas are more inseparable

than Beer and Britannia? — what event
more awfully important to an English
colony, than the erection of its first
brewhonse? — and yet it required, in
Van Diemen's Land, the greatest soli-
citation to the Government, and all the
infiuence of Mr. Bigge, to get it efiected.
The Government, having obtained pos-
session of the best workmen, keep
them ; their manumission is much
more infrequent than that of the use-
less and unprofitable Convicts ; in other
words, one man is punished for his
skill, and another rewarded for his in-
utility. Guilty of being a locksmith
— guilty of stonemasonry, or brick-
making; — these are the second verdicts
brought in, in New South Wales; and
upon them is regulated the duration or
mitigation of punishment awarded in
the mother-country. At the very
period when the Governor assured
Lord Bathnrst, in his despatches, that
he kept and employed so numerous a
gang of workmen, only because the
inhabitants could not employ them,
Mr. Bigge informs us, that their ser-
vices would have been most acceptable
to the colonists. Most of the settlers,
at the time of Mr. Blgge*s arrival, from
repeated refusals and disappointments,
had been so convinced of the impossi-
bility of obtaining workmen, that they
had ceased to make application to the
Grovernor. Is it to be believed that a
governor, placed over a land of con-
victs, and capable of guarding his
limbs from any sudden collision with
odometrous stones, or vertical posts of
direction, should make no distinction
between the simple convict' and tbo
double and treble convict — the man of
three juries, who has three times ap-
peared at the Bailey, trilarcenous —
three times driven over the seaS?

" t think it necessary to notice the want
of attention that has prevailed, until a very
late period, at Sydney, to the circumstances
of those convicts who have been trans-
ported a second and a third time. Although
the knowledge of these fiicts is transmitted
in the huUc Hsts, or acquired without dif-
ficulty during the passage, it never has
occurred to Governor Macquarrie or to the
superintendent of convicts, to make any
difference in the condition of these men,
not even to disappoint the views they may

T4

BOTANY BAY.

be supposed to have indulged by the success
of a criminal enterprise in England, and
by transferring the fruits of it to New
South Wales.

" To accomplish this veiy simple but im-
portant object, nothing more was necessary
than to consign these men to any situation
rather than that which their friends had
selected for them, and distinctly to declare
in the presence of their comrades at the
first muster on their arrival, that no con-
sideration or favour would be shown to
those who had violated the law a second
time, and that the mitigation of their
sentences must be indefiultely postponed."
—(Beport, p. 19.)

We were not a little amused at
Governor Macquarrie's laureate — a
regular Mr. Southey — who, upon the
king's birth-day, sings the praises of
Governor Macquarrie.* The case of
this votary of Apollo and Mercury was
a case for life ; the offence a menacing
epistle, or, as low people call it, a
threatening letter. He bins been par-
doned, however,^- bursting his shackles,
liiie Orpheus of old, with song and
metre, and is well spoken of by Mr.
Bigge, but no specimen of his poetry
giveiL One of the best and most en-
lightened men in the settlement appears
to be Mr. Marsden, a clergyman at
Paramatta. Mr. Bennet represents
him as a gentleman of great feeling,
whose life is embittered by the scenes
of horror and vice it is his lot to wit-
ness at Paramatta. Indeed he says of
himself, that in consequence of these
things, ** he does not enjoy one happy
moment from the beginning to the
end of the week I*' T\\\s letter, at
the time, produced a very consider-
able sensation in this country. The
idea of a man of refinement and feeling
wearing away his life in the midst of
scenes of crime and debauchery to
which he can apply no corrective, is
certainly a very melancholy and af-
fecting picture ; but there is no story,
however elegant and eloquent, which
does not require, for the purposes of
justice, to be tnnied to the other side,
and viewed in reverse. The Rev. Mr.
Marsden (says Mr. Bigge), being him'
self accustomed to traffic in spirits^ must
necessarily feel displeased at having so

• Ffd0 Beport, p. 14S.

many public houses licensed in the
neighbourhood. — (p. 14.)

" As to Mr. Marsden's troubles of mind "
(says the Governor) "and pathetic display
of sensibility and humanity, they must be
so deeply seated, and so ftr removed finom
the surfkoe, as to escape all possible obser-
vation. His habits are those of a man for
ever engaged in some active, animi^«ed
pursuit. No man* travels more firom town
to town, or firom house to house. His
deportment is at all times that of a person
the most gay and h^py. When I was
honoured with his society, he was by fiur
the most cheerful person I met in the
colony. Where his hours of sorrow were
spent it is hard to divine; for the variety of
his pursuits, both in his own concerns, and
in those of others, is so extensive, in tatm."
ing, grazing, manufactories, transactions^
that with his clerical duties, he seems, to
use a common phrase, to have his hands
full of work. Aiid the particular subject
to which he imputes this extreme depres-
sion of mind, is, besidra, one for which few
people here will give him much credit.'*—
{Maequarri^e Letter to Lord Sidmouth,
p. 18.)

There is certainly a wide difference
between a man of so much feeling, that
he has not a moment's happiness from
the beginning to the end of the week,
and a little merry bustling clergyman,
largely concerned in the sale of rum,
and brisk at a bargain for barley. Mr.
Bigge*s evidence, however, is very
much in favour of Mr. Marsden. He
seems to think him a man of highly
respectable character and superior un-
derstanding, and that he has been dis-
missed from the magistracy by Go-
vernor Macqnarrie, in a very rash, nn-
justifiable,and even tyrannical manner;
and in these opinions, we must say, the
facts seem to bear out the Beport of
the Commissioner.

Colonel Macquajrrie not only dis-
misses honest and irreproachable men
in a country where their existence is
scarce, and their services inestimable,
bnt he advances convicts to the situa-
tion and dignity of magistrates. Mr.
Bennet lays great stress upon this, and
makes it one of his strongest charges
against the Governor ; and the Com-
missioner also takes part against it.
But we confess we have great doubts
on the subject ; and are by no means

BOTANY BAY.

15

satisfied that the system of the Go-
remor was not, upon the whole, the
wisest and hest adapted to the situation
of the colony. Men are governed by
words ; and under the infamous term
convict, are comprehended crimes of
the most different degrees and species
of guilt. One man is transported for
stealing three hams and a pot of sau-
sages ; and in the next berth to him
on board the transport is a young sor-
geon, who has been engaged in the
mutiny at the Nore ; the third man is
for extorting money ; the foarth was
in a respectable situation of life at the
time of the Irish Bebellion, and was so
ill read in history as to imagine that
Ireland had been ill-treated by England,
and so bad a reasoner as to suppose,
that nine Catholics ought not to pay
tithes to one Protestant. Then comes
a man who set his house on fire, to
cheat the Phoenix Office ; and, lastly,
that most glaring of all human yillains,
a poacher, driyen from Europe, wife
and child, by thirty lords of manors, at
the Quarter Sessions, for killing a par-
tridge. Now, all these are crimes no
doubt — particularly the last; but they
are surely crimes of very different de-
grees of intensity to which different
degrees of contempt and horror are
attached — and from which those who
haye committed them may, by subse-
quent morality, emancipate themselves,
with different degrees of difficulty, and
with more or less of success. A warrant
granted by a reformed bacon-stealer
would be absurd; but there is hardly
any reason why a foolish hot-brained
young blockhead, who chose to favour
the mutineers at the Nore when he was
sixteen years of age, may not make a
very loyal subject, and a very respect-
able and respected magistrate, when
he is forty years of age, and has cast
his Jacobine teeth, and fallen into the
' practical jobbing and loyal baseness
which so commonly developes itself
about that period of life. Therefore,
to say that a man must be placed in
no situation of trust or elevation, as a
magistrate, merely because he is a
convict, is to govern mankind with a
dictionary, and to surrender sense
and usefulness to sound. Take the

following case, for instance, from Mr.
Bigge: —

"The next penon, ttom the same class,
that was so distinguished by Governor Mao-
quarrie, was the Re^r. Mr. Fulton. He
was transported by the sentence of a court-
martial in Ireland, during fhe RebelUon;
and on his arrival in New South Wales,
in the year 1800, was sent to Norfolk Island
lo officiate as chaplain. He returned to
New South Wales in the year 180i, and
performed the duties of chaplain at l^dney
and Paramatta.

*' In the divisions that prevailed in the
colony previous to the arrest of Governor
Bligh, Mr. Fulton took no part; but, hap-
pening to form one of his funily when the
person of the Governor was menaced with
violence, he courageously opposed himself
to the military party that entered the
house, and gave an example of courage and
devotion to the authority of Governor
Bligh. which, if partaken either by the
officer or his few adherents, would have
spared him the humiliation of a personal
arrest, and rescued his authority f^m the
disgrace of open and violent suspension.*'
— (■B0|H>rf,pp.8S,84)

The particular nature of the place
too must be remembered. It is seldom,
we suspect, that absolute dunces go to
the Bay, but commonly men of active
minds, and considerable talents in their
various lines — who have not learnt,
indeed, the art of self-discipline and
control, but who are sent to learn it in
the bitter school of adversity. And
when this medicine produces its proper
effect — when sufficient time has been
given to show a thorough change in
character and disposition — a young
colony really cannot afford to dispense
with the services of any person of
superior talents. Activity, resolution,
and acuteness, are of such immense im-
portance in the hard circumstances
of a new State, that they must be
eagerly caught at, and employed as
soon as they are discovered. Though
all may not be quite so unobjectionable
as could be wished —

*' Res dura^ et regni novitas me talia oogunt
Moliri"—

as Colonel Macquarrie probably quoted
to Mr. Commissioner Bigge. As for
the conduct of those extra-moralists,
who come to settle in a land of crime.

16

BOTANY BAY.

and refuse to associate with a convict
legally pardoned, however light his
original . offence, however perfect his
subsequent conduct — we have no tole-
ration for such folljr and foppery. To
sit down to dinner with men who have
not been tried for their lives b a luxury
which cannot be enjoyed in such a
country. It is entirely out of the
question ; and persons so dainty, and
so truly admirable, had better settle at
Clapbam Common than at Botany Bay.
Our trade in Australasia is to turn
scoundrels iuto honest men. If you
come among us, and bring with you
a good character, and will lend us your
society, as a stimulus and reward
to men recovering from degradation,
you will confer the greatest possible
benefit upon the colony ; but if you
turn up your nose at repentance, in-
sult those unhappy people with your
character, and fiercely stand up as a
moral bully, and a virtuous bragga-
docio, it would have been far better
for us if Providence had directed you
to any other part of the globe than
to Botany Bay — which was colonised,
not to gratify the insolence of Phari-
sees, but to heal the contrite spirit of
repentant sinners. Mr. Marsden, who
has no happiness from six o*clock
Monday morning, till the same hour
the week following, will not meet par-
doned convicts in society. We have
no doubt Mr. Marsden is a very re-
spectable clergyman ; but is there not
something very different from this in
the Gospel ? The most resolute and
inflexible persons in the rejection of
pardoned convicts were some of the
marching regiments stationed at Botany
Bay — men, of course, who had uni-
formly shunned, in the Old World, the
society of gamesters, prostitutes, drunk-
ards, and blasphemers — who had ruined
no tailors, corrupted no wives, and had
entitled themselves, by a long course
of solemnity and decorum, to indulge
in all the insolence of purity and
virtue.

In this point, then, of restoring con-
victs to society, we side, as far as the
principle goes, with the Governor ;
but we are far from undertaking to say
that his application ofthe principle has

been on all occasions pmdent and judi-
cious. Upon the absurdity of his con-
duct m attempting to force the society
of the pardoned convicts upon the un-
detected part of the colony, there can
be no doubt These are points upon
which everybody must be allowed to
judge for themselves. The greatest
monarchs in Europe cannot control
opinion upon those points — sovereigns
far exceeding Colonel Lachlan Mac-
quarrie, in the antiquity of their dy-
nasty, and the extent, wealth, and im-
portance of their empire.

" It was in vain to assemble them " (the
pardoned convicts), " even on public occa-
sions, at Government House, or to point
them out to the especial notice and favour
of strangers, or to favour them with par-
ticular marks of his own attention upon
these occasions, if they still continued to be
shunned or disregarded by the rest of the
company. . '

''With the exoeption of the Beverend,
Mr. Fulton, and, on some occasions, of Mr.
Bedf ern,. I never observed that the other
persons of this class participated in the
general attentions of the company; and the
evidence of Mr. Judge>Advocate Wylde and
Major Bell both prove the embarrassment
in which they were left on occasions that
came within their notice.

'* Nor has the distinction that has been
conferred upon them by Governor Mac-
quarrie produced any effect in subduing the
prejudices or objections of the class of f^ee
inhabitants to associate with them. One in-
stance only has oocurred,in which the wifeof
a respectable individual, and a magistrate,
has been visited by the wives of the officers
of the garrison, and by a few of the married
ladies of the colony. It is an instance that
reflects equal credit upon the individual
herself, as upon the feelings and motives
of those by whom she has been so noticed :
but the circumstances of her case were very
peculiar, and those that led to her intro-
duction to society were very much of a
personal kind. It has generally been
thought, that such instances would have
been more numerous if Governor Mao-
quarrie had allowed every person to have
followed the dictates of their own judgment
upon a subject, on which, of all others, men
are least disposed to be dictated to, and
most disposed to judge for themselves.

''Although the emancipated convicts,
whom he has selected fh>m their class, are
persons who generally bear a good character
in New South Wales, yet that opinion of

BOTANY BAT.

17

them is by no means uniTeraal. Those,
however, who entertained, a good opinion of
them would have proved it by their notice,
as Mr. M'Arthnr has been in the habit of
doing, I7 the kind and marked notice that
he took of Mr. Fitzgerald; and those who
entertained a different opinion would not
have contracted an aversion to the principle
of their introduction, from being obliged
to witness what they considered to be an
indiscreet and erroneous application ot it."
—(Report, p. 160.)

We do not think Mr. Bigge exactly
seizes the sense of Colonel Macquarrie*s
phrase, when the Colonel speaks of
restoring men to the rank of society
they have lost. Men may either be
classed by wealth and education, or by
character. All honest men, whether
counts or cobblers, are of the same
rank, if classed by moral distinctions.
It is a common phrase to say that such
a man can no longer be ranked among
honest men ; that he has been degraded
from the class of respectable persons ;
and, therefore, by restoring a convict
to Uie rank he has lost, the Governor
may Tery fairly be supposed to mean
the moral rank. In discussing the
question of granting offices of trust to
convicts, the impcrtance of the Scele-
rati must not be overlooked. Their
numbers are very considerable. They
have one eighth of all the granted land
in the colony ; and there are among
them individuals of very large- fortune.
Mr. Bedfern has 2600 acres, Mr. Lord
4365 acres, and Mr. Samuel Terry
19,000 acres. As this man's history
is a specimen of the mud and dirt out
of which great families often arise, let
the Terry Filiiy the future warriors,
legislators, and nobility of the Bay,
learn from what, and whom, they sprang.

*' The first of these individuals, Samuel
Terry, was transported to the colony when
yomig. He was placed in a gang of stone-
masons at Paramatta, and assisted in the
bmlding of the gaoL Mr. Marsden states,
that during this period he was brought be-
fore him for neglect of duty, and punished;
but, by his industry in other ways, he was
eoablol to set up a small retail shop, in
which he continued till the expiration of
his term of service. He then repaired to
SydiK^, where he extended his business,
and, by marriage, increased his capital He
for many yean kept a public house and
Vol. n.

retail shop, to which the smaller settlers
resorted from the country, and where, after
intoxicating themselves with spirits, they
signed obligations and powers of attorney
to confess judgment, which were always
kept ready for execution. By these means,
and by an active use of the common arti
of over-reaching Ignorant and worthless
men, Samuel Terry has been able to aocu-
mu]ateaconsiderablecapital,andaquantity
of land in New South Wales, inferior only
to that which is held by Mr. D*Arcy Went-
worth. He ceased, at the late regulations
introduced by the magistrates at Sydney,
in Februaiy, 1820, to sell sphituous liquors,
and he is now become one of the principal
speculators in the purchase of investments
at Sydney, and lately established a water-
mill in the swampy plains between that
town and Botany Bay, which did not
succeed. Out of the 19,000 acres of land
held by Samuel Terry, 140 only are stated
to be cleared ; but he possesses 1460 head of
homed cattle, and 3800 Bh&ep**— {Report,
p. 141.)

Upon the subject of the New South
Wales Bank, Mr. Bigge observes, —

*'Upon the first of these occasions, it
became an object both with Governor Mac-
quarrie and Mr. Judge-Advocace Wylde,
who took an active part in the establish-
ment of the bank, to unite in its fiftvour the
support and contributious of the individuals
of all classes of the colony. Govomoc
Macquarrie felt assured, that, without such
co-operation, the bank could not be es-
tablished; for he was convinced that the
emancipated convicts were the most
opulent members of the community. A
committee was formed for the pivpose of
drawing up the rules and regulations of
the establishment, in which are to be found
the names of George Howe, the printer of
the Sydney Gazette, who was also a retail
dealer; Mr. Simon Lord, and Mr. Edward
Eager, all emancipated convicts, and the
last only conditionally.

** Governor Macquarrie had always under-
stood, and strongly wished, that in asking
for the co-operation of all classes of the
community in the formation of the bank, a
share in its direction and management
should also be communicated to them."—
{Report, p. 150.)

In the discussion of this question,
we became acquainted with a piece of
military etiquette, of which we were
previously ignorant. An officer, invited
to dinner by the Gorernor, cannot re-
fuse, unless in case of sickness. This
is the most complete tyranny we ever

C

18

BOTANY BAT.

heard of. If the officer comes oat to
his duty at the proper minnte, with his
proper number of buttons an^ epau-
lettes, what matters it to the Governor
or any body else, where he dines ?
He may as well be ordered what to eat,
as where to dine — be confined to the
upper or under side of the meat — be
denied gravy, or refused melted butter.
But there is no end to the small tyranny
and puerile vexations of a military life.

The mode of employing convicts
upon their arrival appears to us very
objectionable. If a man is skilful
as a mechanic, he is added to the Gro-
Yemment gangs ; and in proportion
to his skill and diligence, his chance
of manumission, or of remission of
labour, is lessened. If he is not skilful,
or not skilful in any trade wanted by
Government, he is applied for by some
settler, to whom he pays from 5«. to
10«. a week; and is then left at liberty
to go where, and work for whomsoever,
he pleases. In the same manner, a
convict who is rich is applied for, and
obtains his weekly liberty and idleness
by the purchased permission of the
person to whom he is consigned.

The greatest possible inattention or
ignorance appears to have prevailed in
manumitting convicts for labour — and
for such labour! not for cleansing
Augean stables, or draining Pontine
marshes, or damming out out a vast
length of the Adriatic, but for working
five weeks with a single horse and cart
in making the road to Bathurst Plains.
Was such labour worth five pounds ?
And is it to be understood, that liberty
is to be restored to any man who will do
five pounds' worth of work in Austrd-
asia? Is this comment upon transpor-
tation to be circulated in the cells of
Kewgate, or in the haunts of those per-
sons who are doomed to inhabit them?

u

■ Another principle by which Governor
Hacquarrie has been guided in bestowing
pardons and indulgences, is that of con-
sidoring them as rewards for any particular
labour or enterprise. It was upon this
principle, that the men who were employed
in working upon the Bathurst Boed, in the
year 1816, and those who oontribnted to
that operation hy the loan of their own
carts and horses, or of those that they
procured, obtained pardons, emandpatious,

and tickets of leave. To 89 men who were
employed as labourers in this work, three
fi*ee pardons were given, one ticket of leave,
and 35 emancipations; and two of them
only had held tickets of leave before they
commenced their labour. Seven convicts
received emancipations for supplying horses
and carts for the caariage of provisions and .
stores as the party was proceeding ; six out
of this number having previously held
tickets of leave.

"Eight other convicts (four of whom
held tickets of leave) received emancipa-
tions for assisting with carts, and one horse
to each, in the transport of provisions and
baggage for the use of Governor M acquanie
and his suite, on their journey from the
river Nepean to Bathurst, in the year
181ft; a service that did not extend b^ond
the period of five weeks, and was attended
with no risk, and very little exertion.

** Between the months of January, 1818,
and June, 1818, nine convicts, of whom six
held ticket of leave, obtained emancipation
for sending carts and horses to convey pro*
visions and baggage from Paramatta to
Bathurst, for the use of Mr. Oxley, the
surveyor-general, in his two expeditions
into the interior of the country. And in the
same period, 23 convict labourers and me-
chanics obtained emancipations for labour
and service performed at Bathurst.

** The nature of the services performed
by these convicts, and the manner in which
some of them were recommended, excited
much surprise in the colony, as well as
great suspicion of the purity of the chan-
nels through which the recommendations
passed."— (226!por«, pp. 122, 123.)

If we are to judge from the number
of jobs detected by Mr. Bigge, Botany
Bay seems very likely to do justice to
the mother- country from whence it
sprang. Mr. Redfem, surgeon, seems
to use the public rhubarb for his pri-
vate practice. Mr. Hutchinson, super-
intendent, makes a very comfortable
thing of the assignment of convicts.
Major Druit was found selling their
own cabbages to Government in a very
profitable manner; and many comfort-
able little practices of this nature are
noticed by Mr. Bigge.

Among other sources of profit, the
superintendent of convicts was the
banker ; two occupations which seem
to be eminently compatible with each
other, inasmuch as they afford to the
superintendent the opportunity of
evincing his impartiality, and loading

BOTANY BAY.

19

with equal labour every convict, with,
out reference to their banking ac-
counts, to the profit they afford, or the
trouble they create. It appears, how-
ever (very strangely), from the Report,
that the money of convicts was not
always recovered with the same readi^
ness it was received.

Mr. Richard Fitzgerald, in Septem-
ber, 1819, was comptroller of provi-
sions in Emu Plains, storekeeper at
Windsor, and superintendent of Go-
vernment works at the same place.
He was also a proprietor of land and
stock in the neighbourhood, and kept
a public house in Windsor, of which
an emancipated Jew was the ostensible
manager, upon whom Fitzgerald gave
orders for goods and spirits in payment
for labour on the public works. . These
two places are fifteen miles distant
from each other, and convicts are to be
watched and managed at both. It
eannot be imagined that the convicts
are slow in observing or following
these laudable examples ; and their
conduct will add another instance of
the vigilance of Macquanie's govern-
ment.

"The stores and matenals used in the
different buildings at Sydney are kept in a
magaasine in the lumher yard, and are dis-
tributed according to the written requisi-
tions of the different overseers that are
made during the day, and that are ad-
dressed to the storekeeper in the lumber
yard. They are conveyed twm thenoe to
the buildings by the convict mechanics;
and no account of the expenditure or em-
ployment of the stores is kept by the over-
seers, or rendered to the storekeeper. It
was only in the early part .of the year 1820
that an account was opened by him of the
different materials used in each work or
building; andin7ebruary,1821«thi8aooount
wasoonsiderBblyin arrear. The temptation,
therefore, that is afforded to the oonvict
mechanics who work in the lumber yard,
in secreting tools, stores, and implements,
and to those who work at the different
buildings, is very great, and the loss to
OoTomment is considerable. The tools,
mo!reoTer, have not latterly been mustered
as they used to be once a month, except
where one of the convicts is removed fh)m
Sydney to another station."— (f^por^, pp.
86,37.) •

If it were right to build fine houses

in a new colony, common sense seems
to point out a control upon the expen-
diture, with such a description of work-
men. What must become of that
country where the buildings are use-
less, the Governor not wise, the public
the paymaster, the accounts not in ex-
istence, and all the artisans thieves ?

A horrid practice prevailed, of the
convicts accepting a sum of money
from the captain, in their voyage out,
in lieu of their regular ration of provi-
sions. This ought to be restrained by
the severest penalties.

What is it that can be urged for
Governor Macquarrie, after the follow-
ing picture of the Hospital at Para-
matta ? It not only justifies his recall,
but seems to require (if there are means
of reaching such neglect) his severe
punishment.

" The women, who had become most pro-
fligate and hardened by habit, were asso-
ciated in their daily tasks with those who
hadverylately arrived, to whom the customs
and practices of the colony were yet un-
known, and who might have escaped the
consequences of such pernicious lessons, if
a little care, and a small portion of expense,
had been spared in providing them with a
separate apartment during the hours of
labour. As a place of employment, the
flictory at Paramatta was not only very
defective, but very prejudiciid. The in-
sufficient accommodation that it afforded to
those females who might be well disposed,
presented an early incitement, if not an
excuse for, their resorting to indiscriminate
prostitution ; and on the evening of their
. arrival at Paramatta, those who were not de-
ploring their state of abandonment and dis-
tress, were traversing the streets in search
of the guilty means of fdture support. The
state in which the place itself was kept,
and the state of disgusting filth in which I
found it, both on an early visit lifter my
arrival, and on one preceding my departure;
the disordered, unruly, and licentious ap-
pearance of the women, manifested the
little degree of control in which the female
convicts were kept, and the little attention
that was paid to anything beyond the mere
performance of a certain portion of labour.**
•—{Report^ p. 70.)

It might naturally be supposed, that
any man sent across the globe with a
good salary, for the express purpose of
governing, and, if possible, of reforming
convicts, would have preferred the
' 2

20 BOTANY BAT.

morals of his convicts to the accommo- 1 public liberty, without knowing or
dation of his horses. Let Mr. Bigge, taring how it is preserved, to attack
a very discreet and moderate man, be every person who.complams of abuses,

heard upon these points.

** Having observed, in Governor Mao-
quarrie's answer to Mr. Marsden, that he
justified the delay that occurred, and was
still to take place, in the construction of a
proper place of reception for the female
convicts, by the want of any specific in-
structions from your Lordship to under-
take such a building, and which he states
that he solicited at any early period of his
government, and considered indispensable,
I felt it to be my duty to call to the recol-
lection of Governor Macquarrie, that be
had undertaken several buildings of much
less urgent necessity than the foctory at
Paramatta^ without waiting for any such
indispensable authority ; and I now find
that the construction of it was announced
by him to your Lordship in the year 1817,
as then in his contonplation, without mak-
ing any specific allusion to the evils which
the want of it had so long occasioned ; that
the contract for building it was announced
to the public on the 21st of May, 1818* and
that your Lordship's approval of it was not
signified until the 24th August, 1818, and
could not have reached Governor Mac-
quarrie's hands until nearly a year after
the work had been undertaken. It appears,
therefore, that if want of authority bad
been the sole cause of the delay in building
the flEtctory at Paramatta^ that cause would
not only have operated in the month of
March, 1818, but it would have continued
to operate until the want of authority had
been formally supplied. Governor Mac-
quarrie, however, must be conscious, that
after he had stated to Mr. Marsden in the
year 1816, and with an appearance of r^ret,
that the want of authority prevented him
from undertaking the construction of a
building of such undeniable necessity and
importance as the factory at Paramatta, he
had undertaken several buildings. Which,
though useftd in themselves, were of less
comparative importance; and had com-
mencedt in the month of August, 1817, ^£
laiboriou8 and expensive constrttcUon if his
own stables at Sydney, to which I have
already cUluded, without any previous com-
munication to your Lordship, and in direct
opposition to an instruction that must have
then reached him, and that forcibly warned
him of the oonsequenoes.*'— (£e!i>oW; p. 71.)

It is the fashion very much among
the Tories of the House of Commons,
and all those who love the effects of

and to accuse him of gross exaggeration.
No sooner is the name of any public thief,
or of any tormentor, or oppressor, men-
tioned in that Honourable House, than
out bursts the sphrit of jobbing eulo-
gium, and there is not a virtue under
heaven which is not ascribed to the delin-
quent in question, and vouched for by
the most irrefragable testimony. If Mr.
Bennet or Sir Francis Burdett had at-
tacked them, and they had now been
living, how many honourable members
would have vouched for the honesty of
Dudley and Empson, the gentleness of
Jeffries, or the genius of Blackmore ?
What human virtue did not Aris and
the governor of Ilchester jail possess ?
Who was not ready to come forward to
vouch for the attentive humanity of
Grovemor Macquarrie? What scorn
and wit would it have produced from
the Treasury Bench, if Mr. Bennet had
stated the snperior advantages of the
horses oVer the convicts ? — and all the
horrors and immoralities, the filth and
wretchedness, of the female prison of
Paramatta ? Such a case, proved as
this now is, beyond the power of con-
tradiction, ought to convince the most
hardy and profligate scoffers, that there
is really a great deal of occasional
neglect and oppression in the conduct
of public servants ; and that, in spite
of all the official praise, which is ever
ready for the perpetrators of crime,
there is a great deal of real malversa-
tion which should be dragged to the
light of day, by the exertions of bold
and virtuous men. If we had found,
from the Report of Mr. Bigge, that the
charges of Mr. Bennet were without
any, or without adequate foundation,
it would have given us great pleasure
to have vindicated the Governor ; but
Mr. Bennet has proved his indictment.
It is impossible to read the foregoing
quotation, and not to perceive that the
conduct and proceedings of Governor
Macquarrie imperiously required the
exposure they have received ; and that
it would have been much to the credit
of Government if he had been removed
long ago from a situation which, but

BOTANY BAT.

21

for the exertions of Mr. Bennet, we
belieTe he would have held to this
day.

The sick, from Mr. Bigge's Report,
appear to have fared as hadly as the
sinful. Good water was scarce, proper
persons to wait upon the patients could
not he obtained ; and so numerous
were the complaints from this quarter,
that the Governor makes an order for
the exclusion qf all hospital grievances
and complaints, except on one day in
the month — dropsy swelling, however,
fever burning, and ague shaking, in
the meantime, without waiting for the
arrangements of Governor Macquarrie,
or consulting the mollia tempora fandi.

In permitting individuals to distil
their own grain, the Government of
Botany Bay appears to us to be quite
right. It is impossible, in such a colony,
to prevent unlawful distillation to a
considerable extent; and it is as well to
raise upon spirits (as something must
be taxed) that slight duty which ren-
ders the contraband trade not worth
following. Distillation, too, always
insures a magazine against famine, by
which New South Wales has more than
once been severely visited. It opens a
market for grain where markets are
very distant, and where redundance and
famine seem very often to succeed each
other. The cheapness of Spirits to such
working people as know how to use
them with moderation, is a great bless-
ing ; and we doubt whether that mode-
ration, after the first burst of ebriety, is
not just as likely to be learnt in plenty
as in scarcity.

We were a little surprised at the
scanty limits allowed to convicts for
sleeping on board the transports. Mr.
Bigge (of whose sense and humanity
we really have not the sHghtest doubt)
states eighteen inches to be quite suffi-
cient — twice the length of a small
sheet of letter paper. The printer's
devil, who carries our works to the
press, informs us that the allowance to
the demons of the type is double fools-
cap length, or twenty-four inches. The
great city upholsterers generally con.
sider six feet as barely sufficient for a
person rising in business, and assisting
occasionally at official banquets.

Mrs. Fry*s* system is well spoken of
by Mr. Bigge ; and its useful effect in
pi*omoting order and decency among
floating convicts fully admitted.

In a voyage to Botany Bay by Mr.
Read, he states that, while the convict
vessel lay at author, about to sail, a
boat from shore reached the ship, and
irom it stepped a clerk of the Bank
of England. The convicts felicitated
themselves upon the acquisition of so
gentlemanlike a compan ion ; but it soon
turned out that the visitant had no in-
tention of making so long a voyage.
Finding that they were not to have the
pleasure of his company, the convicts
very naturally thought of picking his
pockets; the necessity of which profes-
sional measure was prevented by a
speedy distribution of their contents.
Forth from his bill-case this votary of
PiutusdrewhisnitidNewlands ; all the
forgers and utterers were mustered on
deck ; and to each of them was well and
truly paid into his hand a five pound
note ; less acceptable, perhaps, than
if privately removed from the person,
but still joyfully received. This was
well intended on the part of the Direc-
tors : but the consequences it is scarcely
necessary to enumerate ; a large stock
of rum was immediately laid in from
the circumambient slop- boats; and the
materials of constant intoxication se-
cured for the rest of the voyage.

The following account of pastoral
convicts is striking and picturesque : —

* We are sorry It should have been ima-
guied, flrom some of our late observations
on prison discipline, that we meant to dis-
piarage the exertions of Mrs. Fry. Por
prisoners before trial, it is perfect; but
where imprisonment is intended for punish-
ment, ana not for detention, it requires, as
we have endeavoured to show, a very dif-
ferent system. The Prison Society (an
excellent, honourable, and most useful in-
stitution of some of the best men in Eng-
land) have certainly, in their first Numbers,
f^en into the common mistake, of suppos-
ing that the reformation of the culprit, and
not the prevention of the crime, was the
main object of imprisonment: and have, in
consequence, taken some fal^ views of the
method of treating prisoners— the exposi-
tion of which, after the usual manner of
flesh and blood, makes them a little angry.
But, in objects of so h^h a nature, what
matters who is right P — the only question is,
TFAo* is right?

C 3

22

BOTANY BAY.

4(-

'I observed that a great many of the
convicts in Van Diemen's Land wore jackets
and trousers of the kangaroo skin, and some-
times caps of the same material, which they
obtain from the stock-keepers who are em-
ployed in the interior of the country. The
labour of several of them differs, in this
respect, from that of the convicts in New
South Wales, and is rather pastoral than
agricultural. Permission having been given,
for the last five years, to the settlers to
avaU themselves of the ranges of open plains
and valleys that lie on either side of the
road leading from Austin's Ferry to Laun-
oeston, a distance of 120 miles, their fiocks
and herds have been committed to the
careof convict shepherds and stock-keepers,
who are sent to these cattle ranges, distant
sometimes 30 or 40 miles from their masters'
estates.

"The boundaries of these tracts are de-
scribed in the tickets of occupation by
which th^ are held, and which are made
renewable every year, on payment of a fee
to the lieutenant-Qovernor's clerk. One
or more convicts are stationed on them, to
attend to the flocks and cattle, and are sup-
plied with wheat, tea, and sugar, at the
monthly visits of the owner. They are al-
lowed the use of a musket and a few
cartridges to defend themselves against the
natives; and they have also dogs, with
which they hunt the kangaroos, whose flesh
they eat, and dispose of their skins to per-
sons passing from Hobart Town to Laun-
ceston, in exchange for tea and sugar.
They thus obtain a plentiftU supply of food,
and sometimes succeed in cultivating a few
vegetables. Their habitations are made of
turf, and thatched ; as the bark of the dwarf
eucalyptus, or gum-trees of the plains, and
the interior, in Van Diemen's Land, is not
of sufficient expanse to form covering or
shelter."— (jBcpor^, pp. 107. 108.)

A London thief, clothed in kanga-
roo's skins, lodged under the bark of the
dwarf eucalyptus, and keeping sheep,
fourteen thousand miles from Picca-
dilly, with a crook bent into the shape
of a picklock, is not an uninteresting
picture; and an engraving of it might
have a very salutary effect — provided
no engraving were made of his convict
master, to whom the sheep belong.

The Maroon Indians were hunted
by dogs — the fugitive convicts are re-
covered by the natives.

"The native blacks that inhabit the
neighbourhood of Port Hunter and Port
Stephens have become very active in re-

taking the ftigitive convicts. Th^ aocom-
puiy the soldiers who are sent, in pursuit ;
and, by the extraordinary strength of sight
they possess, improved by their daily ex-
ercise of it in pursuit of kangaroos uid
opossums, they can trace to a great dis-
tance, with wonderful accuracy, the im-
pressions of the human foot. Nor are they
afraid of meeting the ftigitive convicts in
the woods, when sent in their pmrsuit,
without the soldiers ; by their skill in throw-
ing their long and pointed wooden darts,
they wound and disable them, strip them
of their clothes, and bring them back as
prisoners, by uiJuiown roads and paths, to
the Coal River.

" They are rewarded for these enterprises
by presents of maize and blankets; and,
notwithstanding the apprehensions of re-
venge from the convicts whom they bring
back, they continue to live in Newcastle
and its neighbouroood; but are observed
to prefer the society of the soldiers to that
of the convicts.**— (iZcpor^, p. 117.)

Of the convicts in New South Wales,
Mr. Bigge found about eight or nine
in a hundred to be persons of respect-
able character and conduct, though the
evidence respecting them is not quite
satisfactory. Bnt the most striking
and consolatory passage in the whole
Report is the following : —

** The marriages of the native-b<nii youths
with female convicts are very rare; a cir-
cumstance that is attribulable to the ge-
neral disinclination to early marriage that
is observable amongst them, and partly to
the abandoned and dissolute habits of the
female convicts ; but chiefly to a sense of
pride in the native-bom youths, approach-
ing to contempt for the vices and depravity
of the convicts, even when manifested in
the persons of their own parehts.'*— (£e-
port, p. 105.)

Everything is to be expected from
these feelings. They convey to the
mother-country the first proof that the
foundations of a mightj empire are
laid.

We were somewhat surprised to find
Governor Macquarrie contending with
Mr. Bigge, that it was no part of his,
the Governor's duty to select and sepa-
rate the useless from the useful convicts,
or to determine, except in particular
cases, to whom they are to be assigned.
In other words, he wishes to effect the
customary separation of salary and
duty — the grand principle which ap<«

BOTANY RAT.

23

pears to pervade all human institutiong,
aad to be the most invincible of all
human abases. Not only are Church,
King, and State, allured by this princi-
ple of vicarious labour, but the pot-boy
has a lower pot-boy, who for a small
portion of the. small gains of his prin-
cipal, arranges, with inexhaustible sedu-
lity, the subdivided portions of drink,
and intensely perspiring, disperses, in
bright pewter, the frothy elements of joy.

There is a very awkward story ot a
severe flogging inflicted upon three free-
men by Governor Macquarrie, without
complaint to, or intervention of, any
magistrate; a fact not denied by the
Governor, and for which no adequate
apology, nor anything approaching to
an adequate apology, is offered. These
Asiatic and satrapical proceediogs,how-
ever, we have reason to think, are ex-
ceedingly disrelished by London juries.
The profits of having been unjustly
flogged at Botany Bay (Scarlett for the
plaintifi^) is good property, and would
fetch a very considerable sum at the
Auction Mart. The Governor, in many
instances, appears to have confounded
diversity of opinion upon particular
measures, with systematic opposition to
his Government, and to have treated
as disaffected persons those whom, in
favourite measures, he could not per-
suade by his arguments, nor influence
by his example, and on points where
every man has a right to judge for
himself, and where authority has no
legitimate right to interfere, much less
to dictate.

To the charges confirmed by the
statement of Mr.^ Bigge, Mr. Bennet
adds, from the evidence collected by the
Jail Committee, that the fees in the
Governor's Court, collected by the
authority of the Grovemor, are most
exorbitant and oppressive ; and that
illegal taxes are collected under the sole
authority of the Governor. It has been
made, by colonial regulations, a capital
offence to steal the wild cattle; and in
1816, three persons were convicted of
stealing a wUd huW^ the property of our
Sovereign Lord the King, Now, our
Sovereign Xx}rd the King (whatever be
his other merits or demerits) is certainly
a very good-natured man, and would

be the first to lament that an unhappy
convict was sentenced to death for kill-
ing one of his wild bulls on the other side
of the world. The cases of Mr. Moore
and of William Stewart, as quoted by
Mr. Bennet, are very strong. If they are
answerable, they should be answered.
The concluding letter to Mr. Stewart is,
to us, the most decisive proof of the un-
fitness of Colonel Macquarrie for the
situation in which he was placed. The
Ministry at home, after the authenticity
of the letter was proved, should have
seized upon the first decent pretext of re-
calling the Governor, of thanking him in
the name of his Sovereign for his valu-
able services (not omitting his care of
the wild bulls), and of dismissing him
to half-pay — and insignificance.

As to the Trial by Jury, we cannot
agree with Mr. Bennet, that it would be
right to introduce it at present, for
reasons we have given in a previous
Article, and which we see no reason for
altering. The time of course will come
when it would be in the highest degree
unjust and absurd, to refuse to that set-
tlement the benefit of popular institu-
tions. But they are too young, too few,
and too deficient for such civilised ma-
chinery at present *' I cannot come .
to serve upon the jury — the waters of
the Hawksbury are out, and I have a
mile to swim — the kangaroos will
break into my com — the convicts have
robbed me — my little boy has been
bitten by an omithorynchus paradoxus
— I have sent a man fifty miles with a
sack of fiour to buy a pair of breeches
for the assizes, and he is not returned.'*
These are the excuses which, in new
colonies, always prevent Trial by Jury;
and make it desirable, for the first
half century of their existence, that they
should live under the simplicity and
convenience of despotism — such modi-
fied despotism (we mean) as a British
House of Commons (always containing
men as bold and honest as the member
for Shrewsbury) will permit in the
governore of their distant colonies.

Such are the opinions formed of the
conduct of Governor Macquarrie by
Mr. Bigge. N ot the slightest insinua-
tion is made against the integrity of
his character. Though almost every-

4

84

BOTANY BAT.

body else has a job, we do not perceive
that any is imputed to this gentleman ;
bat he is negligent, expensive, arbitrary,
ignorant, and clearly deficient in abili>
ties for the task committed to his charge.
It is our decided opinion, therefore,
that Mr. Bennet has rendered a valn-
able service to the public, in attacking
and exposing his conduct. As a gen-
tleman and an honest man, there is not
the smallest charge against the Gover-
nor; but a gentleman, and a very honest
man, may very easily ruin a very fine
colony. The colony itself, disencum-
bered of Colonel Lachlan Macquarrie,
will probably become avery fine empire ;
but we can scarcely believe it is of any
present utility as a place of punishment.
The history of emancipated convicts,
who have made a great deal of money
by their industry and their speculations,
necessarily reaches this country, and
prevents men who are goaded by want,
and hovering between vice and virtue,
from looking upon it as a place of suf-
fering — perhaps leads them to consider
it as the land of hope and refuge, to
them unattainable, except by the com-
mission of crime. Ai)d so they lift up
their heads at the Bar, hoping to be
transported, —

'^Stabont orantes primi transmittere
cursum,
Tendebantque manus, rlp» ulterioris
amore."

It is not possible, in the present state
of the law, that these enticing histories
of convict prosperity should be pre-
vented, by one uniform system of
severity exercised in New South Wales,
upon all transported persons. Such
different degrees of guilt are included
under the term of convict, that it would
yiolate every feeling of humanity, and
every principle of justice, to deal out
one measure of punishment to all. We
strongly suspect that this is the root
of the evil. We want new grada-
tions of guilt to be established by law
— new names for those gradations —
and a different measure of good and
evil treatment attached to those de-
nominations. In this manner, the
mere convict, the rogue and convict, and
the incorrigible convict, would expect,

upon their landing, to be treated with
very different degrees of severity. The
first might be merely detained in New
South Wales without labour or coer-
cion; the second compelled, at allevents,
to work out two-thirds of his time,
without the possibility of remission;
and the third be destined at once for
the Coal River.* If these consequences
steadily followed these gradations of
conviction, they would soon be under-
stood by the felonious world at home.
At present, the prosperity of the best
convicts is considered to be attainable
by all ; and transportation to another
hemisphere is looked upon as the
renovation of fallen fortunes, and the
passport to wealth and power.

Another circumstance, which de-
stroys all idea of punishment in trans-
portation to New South Wales, is the
enormous expense which that settlement
would occasion if it really were made a
place of punishment. A little wicked
tailor arrives, of no use to the architec-
tural projects of the Governor. He is
turned over to a settler, who leases this
sartorial Borgia his liberty for five
shillings per week, and allows him to
steal and snip, what, when, and where
he can. The excuse for all this mock-
ery of law and justice is, that the
expense of his maintenance is saved to
the Government at home. But the
expense is not saved to the country at
large. The nefarious needleman writes
home, that he is as comfortable as a
finger in a thimble ! that though a frac-
tion only of humanity, he has several
wives, and is filled every day with rum
and kangaroo. This, of course, is not
lost upon the shopboard; and, for the
saving of fifteen pence per day, the
foundation of many criminal tailors is
laid. What is true of tailors, is true of
tinkers and all other trades. The
chances of escape from labour, and of
manumission in the Bay, we may de-
pend upon it, are accurately reported,
and perfectly understood, in the flash-
houses of St. Giles; and while Earl
Bathurst is full of jokes and joy, pub-
lic morals are thus, sapped to their
foundation.

* This practice is now resorted to.

GAME LAWS.

25

GAME liAWS.
(E. Rbvibw, 1823.)

A Letter to the Chairman qf the Committee
qf the House qf Commons^ on the Game
Lotos. By the Hon. and Bev. WUliain
Herbert. Eid«^way. 1823.

About the time of the publication of
this little pamphlet of Mr. Herbert, a
Ck>mmittee of the Hoase of Commons
pablished a Report on the Game Laws,
containing a great deal of very carious
information respecting the sale of game,
an epitome of which we shall now lay
before our readers. The country hig-
glers who collect poultry, gather up
the game from the depots of the
poachers, and transmit it in the same
manner as poultry, and in the same
packages, to the London poulterers,
hy whom it is distributed to the public;
and this traiSic is carried on (as far as
game is concerned) even from the dis-
tance of {Scotland. The same business
is carried on by the porters of stage
coaches ; and a great deal of game is
sold clandestinely by lords of manors,
or by gamekeepers, without the know-
ledge of lords of manors; and princi-
pally, as the evidence states, from
Norfolk and Suffolk, the great schools
of steel traps and spring guns. The
supply of game, too, is proved to be
quite as regular as the supply of
poultry ; the number of hares and
partridges supplied rather exceeds that
of pheasants ; but any description of
game may be had to any amount.
Here is a part of the evidence.

"Can you at ai^ time procure any
qiiantil7 of game ? I have no doubt of it. —
If you were to receive almost an unlimited
order, coidd you execute it? Tes; I would
supply the whole city of London, any fixed
day once a week, all the year through, so
that every individual inhabitant should
have game for his table.— Do you think you
could procure a thousand pheasants ? Tes ;
I would be bound to produce ten thousand
a week.— You would be bound to provide
every fiimily in London with a dish of
game P Tes ; a partridge, or a pheasant, or
a hare, or a grouse, or something or other.
— How would you set about doing it P I
Should, of course, request the persons with
whom I am in the habit of dealing, to use
their influence to bring me what they could
by a certain day; I should speak to the

dealers and the mail-guards, and coachmen,
to produce aquantity ; and I should send to
my own connections in one or two manon
where I have the privilege of selling for
those gentlemen; and should send to Scot-
land to say, that every week the largest
quantity they could produce was to be sent.
Being but a petty salesman, I sell a veiy
small quantity; but I have had about 4000
head direct from one man.— Can you state
the quantity of game which has been sent
to you during the yearP No : I may say,
perhaps, 10,000 head; mine is a limited
trade; I speak comparatively to that of
others ; I only supply private fiunilies."—
(Beportt P- 20.)

Poachers who go out at night cannot,
of course, like regular tradesmen, pro-
portion the supply to the demand, but
having once made a contract, they kill
all they can ; and hence it happens
that the game market is sometimes
very much overstocked, and great
quantities of game either thrown away,
or disposed of by Irish hawkers to the
common people at very inferior prices.

'* Does it ever happen to you to be obtiged
to dispose of poullnryat the same low prices
you are obliged to dispose of gameP It
depends upon the weather; often when
there is a considerable quantity on hand,
and, owing to the weather, it will not keep
till the following day, I am obliged to take
any price that is offered ; but we can always
turn either poultry or game into some price
or other; and if it was not for the Irish
hawkers, hundreds and hundreds of heads
of game would be spoiled and thrown away.
It is out of the power of any person to con-
ceive for one moment the quantity of game
that is hawked in the streets. I have had
opportuni^ more than other persons of
knowing this ; for I have sold, I may say,
more game than any other person in the
city; and we serve hawkers indiscrimi-
nately, persons who come and purchase
probably six fowls or turkeys and geese, and
th^ will buy heads of game with them." —
(Report, p. 22.)

Live birds are sent up as well as
dead ; eggs as well as birds. The
price of pheasants' eggs last year was
Ss. per dozen ; of partridges* eggs, 2s.
The price of hares was from Ss. to
5s. 6d. ; of partridges, from Is. 6d. to
2s, Gd. ; of pheasants, from 5s. to
5s. 6dL each, and sometimes as low as
Is. 6d,

"What have you given for game this

26

GAME LAWS.

year? It is very low indeed; I am nek of
it ; I do not think I shall ever deal again.
"We have got game this seaflon as low as
half-a-crown a brace (birds), and pheasants
as low as 7«. a brace. It is so plentiful,
there has been no end to spoiling it this
season. It is so plentiful, it is of no use. In
war tone it was worth having; then they
fetched 7<. and Bs, a brace." — {JSeportt
p. 88.)

All the poulterers, too, even the
most respectable, state, that it is abso-
lutely necessary they should carry on
this illegal traffic in the present state
of the game laws ; because their regu-
lar customers for poultry would infal-
libly leave any poulterer's shop from
whence they could not be supplied
with game.

" I have no doubt that it is the general
wish at present of the trade not to deal in
the article ; but they are all, of course, com-
pelled from their connections. If they can>
not get game from one person they can from
another.

'* Do you believe that poulterers are not
to be found who would take out licenoet,
and would deal with those very persons,
for the purposes of obtaining a greater profit
than they would have de^ngas you would
do P I think the poulterers in general are
a respectable set of men, and would not
countenance such a thing ; they feel now
that they are driven into a corner;, that
there may be men who would countenance
irregular proceedings, I have no doubt.—
Would it be their interest to do so, consider-
ing the penalty? No, I think not. The
poulterers are perfectly well aware that
they are committing a breach of the law at
present.— Do you suppose that those per-
sons, respectable as they are, who are now
committing a breach of the law, would not
equally commit that breach if the law were
altered? No, certainly not ; at present it
is so connected with their business that
they cannot help it.— You said just now,
that they were cbriven into a corner ; what
did you mean by that? We are obliged to
add and abet those men who commit those
depredations, because of the constant de-
mand for game, ftx>m different customers
whom we supply with poultry.— Could you
carry on your business as a poulterer, if you
refused to supply game? By no means;
because some of the first people in the
land requure it ofme,**'-{BepoH, p. 16.)

When that worthy Errorist, Mr.
Bankes, brought in his bill of addi-
tional severities against poachers, there

was no man of sense and reflection
who did not anticipate the following
consequences of the measure:—

"Do you find that less game has {»een
sold in consequence of the bill rendering it
penal to sell game? Upon my word, it did
not make the slightest difference in the
world. — Not Immediately after it waa
made? No; I do not think it made the
slightest difference. — It did not make the
slightest sensation? No; I never sold a
bird less.— Was not there a resolution of
the poulterers not to sell game? I was
secretary to that committee.— What was
the consequence of that resolution? A
great deal of ill blood in the trade. One
gentleman who just left the room did not
come in to my ideas. I never had a head
of game in my house ; all my neighbours
sold it ; and as we had people on the watch*
who were ready to watch it into the houses,
it came to this, we were prepared to bring
our actions against certain individuals,
after sittii^, perhaps, ftx)m three to four
months, every week, which we did at the
Crown uid Anchor in the Strand ; but we
did not proceed with our actions, to prevent
ill blood in the trade. We regularly met,
and, as we conceived at the time, formed a
committee of the most respectable of the
trade. I was secretary of that committee.
The game was sold in the city, in the
vicini^ of the Royal Exchange, cheaper
than ever was known, because the people
at our end of the town were afraid. I, as a
point of honour, never had it in my house.
I never had a head of game in my house
that season.— What was the consequence?
I lost my trade, and gave offence to gentle-
men: a nobleman's steward, or butler, or
cook, treated it as contumely ; ' Good Qod !
what is the use of your runnii^ your head
against the wall?'— You were obliged to
begin the trade again ? Yes, and sold more
than ever.*'— (.Bepor^, p. 18.)

These consequences are confirmed
by the evidence of every person before
the Committee.

All the evidence is very strong as
to the fact, that dealing in game is not
discreditable ; that there are a great
number of respectable persons, and,
among the rest, the first poulterers in
London, who buy game knowing it to
have been illegally procured, but who
would never dream of purchasing any
other article procured by diiihonesty.

"Are there not, to your knowledge, a
great many people in this town who deal in

GAME LAWS.

27

game, by buying or seUing it, that would
not on any account buy or sell stolen pro-
perty? Oertunly; there are many capital
tradesmen, poulterers, who deal in game,
that would have nothing to do with stolen
propwt^; and yet I do not think there is a
poulterer's shop in London, where they
oould not get game, if they wanted it.— Do
you think any discredit attaches to any
man in this town for buying or selling
game? I think none at all; and I do not
think that the men to whom I have just
referred would have anything to do with
stolen goods.— Would it not, in the opinion
of the inhabitants of London, be considered
a veiy different thing dealing in stolen
game or stolen poultiyP Certainly.— The
one would be considered disgraceful, and
the other not P Certainly ; they think no-
thing of dcalii^ in gune; and the farmers
in the country will not give information ;
they will have a hare or two of the very
men who work for them ; and they are
afraid to give information.*' — (Report,
p.SL)

The evidence of Daniel Bishop, one
of the Bow Street officers, who has
been a good deal employed in the ap-
prehension of poachers, is curious and
important, as it shows the enormous
extent of the evil, and the ferocious
spirit which the game laws engender
in the common people. " The poach-
ers," he says, ** came sixteen miles. The
whole of the village from which they
were taken were poachers ; the consta-
ble of the village, and the shoemaker,
and other inhabitants of the village. I
fetched one man twenty- two miles.There
was the son of a respectable gardener ;
one of these was a sawyer, and another
a baker, who kept a good shop there.
If the village had been alarmed, we
should have had some mischief ; but
we were all prepared with fire-arms.
If poachers have a spite with the game-
keeper, that would induce them to go
out in nnmbers to resist him. This
party I speak of bad something in
their hats to distinguish them. They
take a delight in setting-to with the
gamekeepers ; and talk' it over after-
wards how they served so and so.
They fought with the butt-ends of
their guns at Lord Howe's ; they beat
the gamekeepers shockingly." — "Does
it occur to you (Bishop is asked) to
have had more applications, and to

have detected more person* this season
than in any former one ? Yes ; I
think within four months there have
been twenty-one transported that I
have been at the taking of, and throngh
one roan taming evidence in each case,
and without that they could not have
been identified ; liie gamekeepers
could not, or would not, identify them.
The poachers go to the public-house
and spend their money ; if they have
a good night's work, they will go and
get drunk with the money. The gangs
are connected together at diflferent
public-houses, just like a club at a
public-house ; they are all sworn
together. If the keeper took one of
them, they would go and attack him
for so doing."

Air. Stafford, chief-clerk of Bow
Street, says, ** AH the ofiences against
the game laws which are. of an atro-
cious description I think arc generally
reported to the public office in Bow
Street, more especially in cases where
the keepers have either been killed, or
dangerously wounded, and the as-
sistance of an officer firom Bow Street
is required. The applications have
been much more numerous of late
years* than they were formerly. Some
of them have been cases of mulrder ;
but I do not think many have amounted
to murder. There are many instances
in which keepers have been very ill-
treated — they have been wonnded,
skulls have been fractured, and bones
broken ; and they have been shot at.
A man takes a hare, or a pheasant,
with a very difierent feeling from that
with which he would take a pigeon or
a fowl out of a farm-yard. The
number of pecsons that assemble to-
gether is more for the purpose of
protecting themselves against those
that may apprehend them, than from
any idea that they are actually com-

* It is only of late years that men have
been transported for shooting at night.
There are instances of men who have been
transported at the Sessions for night poach-
ing, who made no resistance at all when
taken; but then their characters as old
poachers weighed against them— characters
estimated probably by the very lords of
manors who had lost their game. This dis-
graoefiil law is the occasion of all the mur-
ders committed for game.

28

GAME LAWS.

mitting depredation upon the property
of another person ; thej do not con-
sider it as property. I think there is a
sense of morality and a distinction of
crime existing in the men's minds,
although they are mistaken about it:
Men feel that if they go in a grbat
body together, to break into a house,
or to rob a person, or to steal his
poultry, or his sheep, they are commit-
ting a crime against that man's pro-
perty ; but I think with respect to the
game, they do not feel that they are
doing anything which is wrong : but
think they have committed no crime
when they have done the thing, and
their only anxiety is to escape de-
tection." In addition, Mr. Stafford
states that he remembers not one single
conviction under Mr, JSankes's Act
against buying game ; and not one con-
viction for buying or selling game
within the last year has been made at
Bow Street.

The inferences from these facts are
exactly as we predicted, and as every
man of common sense must have pre-
dicted — ^that to prevent the sale of
game is absolutely impossible. If game
be plentiful, and cannot be obtained at
any lawful market, an illicit trade will
be established, which it is utterly im-
possible to prevent by any increased
severity of the laws. There never
was a more striking illustration of the
necessity of attending to public opinion
in all penal enactments. Mr. Bankes
(a perfect representative of all the or-
dinary notions about forcing mankind
by pains and penalties) took the floor.
To buy a partridge (though still con-
sidered as inferior to murder) was
visited with the very heaviest infliction
of the law ; and yet, though game is
sold as openly in Ix)ndon as apples
and oranges, though three years have
elapsed since this legislative mistake,
the officers of the police can hardly
recollect a single instance where the
information has been laid, or the
penalty levied ; and why ? because
every man's feelings and every man's
understanding tell him, that it is a
most absurd and ridiculous tyranny to
prevent one man, who has more game
than he wants, from exchanging it

with another man, who has more
money than he wants — because m&gis-'
trates will not (if they can avoid it)
inflict such absurd penafties— because
even common informers know enough
of the honest indignation of mankind,
and are too well aware of the coldness
of pump and pond, to act under the
bill of the Lycurgus of Corfe Castle.

The plan now proposed is, to un-
dersell the poacher, which may be
successful or unsuccessful ; but the
threat is, if you attempt this plan there
will be no game — and if there is no
game there will be no country gentle-
men. We deny every part of this
enthymeme — the last proposition as
well as the first. We really cannot
believe that all our rural mansions
would be deserted, although no game
was to be found in their neighbour-
hood. Some come into the country
for health, some for quiet, for agricul-
ture, for economy, from attachment to
family estates, from love of retirement,
from the necessity of keeping up pro-
vincial interests, and from a vast
variety of causes. Partridges and
pheasants, though they form nine-
tenths of human motives, still leave a
small residue, which may be classed
under some other head. Neither are
a great proportion of those whom the
love of shooting brings into the country
of the smallest value or importance to
the country. A Colonel of the Guards,
the second son just entered at Oxford,
three diners out from Piccadilly —
Major Rock, Lord John, Lord Charles,
the Colonel of the regiment quartered
at the neighbouring town, two Irish
Peers, and a German Baron ; — if all
this honourable company proceed with
fustian jackets, dog-whistles, and che-
mical inventions, to a solemn destruc-
tion of pheasants, how is the country
benefited by their presence? or how
would earth, air, or sea, be injured by
their annihilation ? There are certainly
many valuable men brought into the
country by a love of shooting, who,
coming there for that purpose, are
useful for many better purposes ; but
a vast multitude of shooters are of no
more service to the country than the
ramrod which condenses the charge, or

GAME LAWS.

29

the barrel which contains it We do
not deny that the annihilation of the
game laws would thin the aristocratical
popalation of the country ; but it
would not thin that population so much
as is contended ; and the loss of many
of the persons so banished would be a
good rather than a misfortune. At
all events, we cannot at all comprehend
the policy of alluring the better classes
of society into the country, by the
temptation of petty tyranny and in-
justice, or of monopoly in sports. How
absurd it would be to offer to the
higher orders the exclusive use of
peaches, nectarines, and apricots, as
the premium of rustication — to put
vast quantities of men into prison as
apricot eaters, apricot buyers, and
apricot sellers — to appoint a regular
day for beginning to eat,' and another
for leaving off — to have a lord of the
manor for green gages — and to rage
with a penalty of five pounds against
the unqualified eater of the gage 1 And
yet the privilege of shooting a set of
wild poultry is stated to be the bonus
for the residence of country gentlemen.
As far as this immense advantage can
be obtained without the sacrifice of
justice and reason, well and good —
but we would not oppress any order
of society, or violate right and wrong,
to obtain any population of squires,
however dense. It is the grossest of
all absurdities to say the present state
of the law is absurd and unjust, but it
must not be altered, because the altera-
tion would drive gentlemen out of the
country ! If gentlemen cannot breathe
fresh air without injustice, let them
putrefy in Cranborne Alley. Make
jast laws, and let squires live and die
where they please.

The evidence collected in the House
of Commons respecting the Game Laws
is so striking and so decisive against
the gentlemen of the trigger, that their
only resource is to represent it as not
worthy of belief. But why not worthy
of belief ? It is not stated what part
of it is incredible. Is it the plenty
of game in London for sale? the
infrequency of convictions ? the occa-
sional but frequent excess of supply
above demand in an article supplied by

stealing ; or its destruction when the
sale is not without risk, and the price
extremely low? or the readiness of
grandees to turn the excess of their
game into fish or poultry ? . All these
circumstances appear to us so natural
and so likely, that we should, without
any evidence, have had Uttle doubt of
their existence. There are a few
absurdities in the evidence of one of
the poulterers ; but, with this excep-
tion, we see no reason whatever for
impugning the credibility and exact-
ness of the mass of testimony prepared
by the Committee.

It is utterly impossible to teach the
common people to respect property in
animals bred the possessor knows not
where — ^which he cannot recognise by
any mark, which may leave him the
next moment, which are kept-, not for
his profit, but for his amusement.
Opinion never will be in favour of such
property : if the animus furandi exists,
the propensity will be gratified by
poaching. It is in vain to increase the
severity of the protecting laws. They
make the case weaker instead of
stronger : and are more resisted and
worse executed, exactly in proportion
as they are contrary to public opinion :
—the case of the game laws is a memo-
rable lesson upon the philosophy of
legislation. If a certain degree of
punishment does not cure the offence,
it is supposed by the Bankes' School,
that there is nothing to be done but
to multiply this punishment by two,
and then again and again, till the
object is accomplished. The efficient
maximum of punishment, however, is
not what the Legislature chooses to
enact, hut what the great mass of man'
kind think the maximum ought to be.
The moment the punishment passes
this Rubicon, it becomes less and less,
instead of greater and greater. Juries
and Magistrates will not commit —
informers* are afraid of public indig-

* There is a remarkable instance of this
in the new Turnpike Act. The penalty for
taking more than the legal number of out-
side passengers is ten pounds per head, if
the coachman is in part or wholly the owner.
This \rill rarely be levied ; because it is too
much. A penalty of 1002. would produce
perfect impunity. The mMimnm of prao-

30

GAME LAWS.

nation — ^poachers will not sobitfit to be
sent to Botany Bay without a battle —
blood is shed for pheasants — the public
attention is called to this preposterous
state of the law — and even ministers
(whom nothing pesters so much as the
interests of humanity) are at last com-
pelled to come forward and do what is
right. Apply this to the game laws.
It was before penal to sell game :
within these few years it has been
made penal to buy it. From the
scandalous cruelty of the law, night
poachers are transported for scTen
years. And yet, never was so much
game sold, or such a spirit of ferocious
resistance excited to the laws. One
fourth of all the commitments in Great
Britain are for offences against the
game laws. There is a general feeling
that some alteration must take place —
a feeling not only among Reviewers,
who never see nor eat game, but
among the double-barrelled, shot-
belted members of the House of Com-
mons, who are either alarmed or
disgusted by the vice and misery which
their cruel laws and childish passion
for amusement are spreading among
the lower orders of mankind.

It is said, ** In spite of all the game
sold, there is game enough left ; let
the laws therefore remain as they are i*^
and so it was said formerly, ** There is
SDgar enough ; let the slave trade
remain as it is.*' But at what expense
of human happiness is this quantity of
game or of sugar, and this state of
poacher law and slave law to remain 1
The first object of a good government
is not that rich men should have their
pleasures in perfection, but that all
orders of men should be good and
happy ; and if crowded covies and
chuckling cock-pheasants are only to
be procured by encouraging the com-
mon people in vice, and leading them
into cruel and disproportionate punish-
ment, it is the duty of the Government
to restrain the cruelties which the
country members, in reward for their

tical severity would have been about five

I)oundB. Any magistrate would cheerfully
evy this sum ; while doubling it will pro-
duce reluctance in the Judge, resistance in
the culprit, and unwiUingness iu the in-
. former.

assiduous loyalty, have been allowed to
introduce into the game laws.

The plan of the new bill (long since
anticipated, in all its provisions, by the
acute author of the pamphlet before
us), is, that the public at large should
be supplied by persons licensed by
magistrates, and that all qualified per-
sons should be permitted to sell their
game to these licensed distributors ; and
there seems a fair chance that such a
plan would succeed. The questions are,
Would sufficient game come into the
hands of the licensed salesman ?
Would the licensed salesman confine
himself to the purchase of ganie from
qualified persons ? Would buyers of
game purchase elsewhere than from the
licensed salesmen ? Would the poacher
be undersold by the honest dealer?
Would game remain in the same
plenty as before ? It is understood
that the game laws are to remain as
they are ; with this only dificrence,
that the qualified man can sell to the
licensed man, and the licentiate to the
public.

It seems probable to us, that vast
quantities of game would, after a
little time, find their way into the hands
of licensed poulterers. Great people
are very often half eaten up by their
establishments. The quantity of game
killed in a lai^e shooting party is very
great: to eat it is impossible, and to
dispose of it in presents very trouble-
some. The preservation of game is
very expensive ; and, when it could be
bought, it would be no more a com-
pliment to send it as a present than it
would be to send geese and fowls. If
game were sold, very large shooting
establishments might be made to pay^
their own expenses. The shame is
made by the law ; there is a disgrace
in being detected and fined. If that
barrier were removed, superfluous
partridges would go to the poulterers
as readily as superfluous venison does
to the venison butcher — or as a gentle-
man sells the corn and mutton off his
farm which he cannot consume. For
these reasons, we do -not doubt that
the shops of licensed poulterers would
be full of game in the season ; and this
part of the argument, we think, the arch-

GAME LAW&

31

enemj, Sir John Shelley, himself would
concede to ns.

The next question is, From whence
would they procore it ? A licence for
selling game, granted by conntry
magistrates, would, from their jealousy
upon these subjects, be granted only
to persons of some respectability and
property. The purchase of game from
unqualified persons would, of course,
be guarded against by very heavy
penalties, both personal and pecuniary ;
and these penalties would be inflicted,
because opinion would go with them.
** Here is a respectable tradesman,** it
would be said, " who might have bought
as much game as he pleased in a lawful
manner, but who, in order to increase
his profits by buying it a little cheaper,
has encouraged a poacher to steal it"
Public opinion, therefore, would cer-
tainly be in favour of a very strong
punishment ; and a licensed vendor of
game, who exposed himself to these
risks, would expose himself to the loss
of liberty, property, character, and
licence. The persons interested to put
a stop to such a practice, would not be
the paid agents •f Government, as in'
cases of smuggling ; but aH the gentle-
men of the country, the customers of
theftradesmen for fish, poultry, or what-
ever else he dealt in, would have an
interest in putting down the practice.
In all probability, the practice would
become disreputable, like the purchase
of stolen poultry ; and this would be
a stronger barrier than the strongest
laws. There would, of course, be some
exceptions to this statement A few
shabby people would, for the chance of
gaining sixpence, incur the risk of ruin
and disgrace; but it is probable that
the general practice would be othe rwise.

For the same reasons, the consumers
of game would rather give a little more
for it to a licensed poulterer, than
expose themselves to severe penalties by
purchasing from poachers. The great
mass of London consumers are sup-
plied now, not from shabby people, in
whom they can have no confidence —
not from hawkers and porters, but
from respectable tradesmen, in whose
probity they have the most perfect
confidence Men will brave the law

for pheasants, but not for sixpence or
a shilling; and the law itself is much
more difficult to be braved, when it
allows pheasants to be bought at some
price, th^n when it endeavours to
render them utterly inaccessible to
wealth. All the licensed salesmen,
too, would have a direct interest in
stopping the contraband trade of game.
They would lose no character in doing
SO; their informations would be
reasonable and respectable.

If all this be true, the poacher would
have to compete with a great mass of
game fairly and honestly poured into
the market. He would be selling with
a rope about his neck, to a person who
bought with a rope about his neck ; his
description of customers would be much
the same as the bustomers for stolen
poultry, and his profits would be very
materially abridged. At present, the
poacher is in the same situation as the
smuggler would be, if rum and brandy
could not be purchased of any fair
trader. The great check to the profits
of the smuggler are, that, if you want
his commodities, and will pay a higher
price, you may have them elsewhere
without the risk of disgrace. But forbid
the purchase of these luxuries at any
price. Shut up the shop of the brandy
merchant, and you render the trade of
the smuggler of incalculable value.
The object of the intended bill is, to
raise up precisely the same competition
to the trade of the poacher, by giving
the public an opportunity of buying
lawfully and honestly the tempting
articles in which he now deals exclu-
sively. Such an improvement would
not, perhaps, altogether annihilate his
trade ; but it would, in all probability,
act as a very material check upon it

The predominant argument against
all this is, that the existing prohibition
against buying game, though partially
violated, does deter many persons
from coming into the market ; that if
this prohibition were removed, the
demand for game would be increased,
the legal supply would be insufficient,
and the residue would, and mast be,
supplied by the poacher, whose trade
would, for these reasons, be as lucrative
and fiourishing as before. But it is

32

CRUEL TREATMENT OF

only a few jears since the purchase of
}raine has been made illegal ; and the
market does not appear to have been
at all narrowed by the prohibition ; not
one head of game the less has been
sold by the poulterers ; and scarcely
one single conviction has taken place
imder that law. How, then, would the
removal of the prohibition, and the
alteration of the law, extend the market,
and increase the demand, when the
enactment of the prohibition has had
no effect in narrowing it? But if the
demand increases, why not the legal
supply also ? Game is increased upon
an estate by feeding them in winter, by
making some abatement to the tenants
for guarding against depredations, by
a large apparatus of game-keepers and
spies — in short by expense. But if
this pleasure of shooting, so natural to
country gentlemen, be inade to pay its
own expenses, by sending superfluous
game to market, more men, it is rea-
sonable to suppose, will thus preserve
and augment their game. The love
of pleasure and amusement will pro-
duce in the owners of game that desire
to multiply game, which the love of
gain does in the farmer to multiply
poultry. Many gentlemen of small
fortune will remember, that they can-
not enjoy to any extent this pleasure
without this resource; that the legal
sale of game will discountenance
poaching ; and they will open an ac-
count with the poulterer, not to get
richer, but to^ enjoy a great pleasure
without an expense, in which, upon
other terms, they could not honourably
and conscientiously indulge. If coun-
try gentlemen of moderate fortune will
do this (and we think after a little time
they will do it), game may be multi-
plied and legally supplied to any ex-
tent. Another keeper, and another
bean-stack, will produce their pro-
portional supply of pheasants. The
only reason why the great lord has
more game per acre than the little
squire, is, that he spends more money
per acre to preserve it.

For these reasons, we think the
experiment of legalising the sale of
game ought to be tried. The game
laws have been carried to a pitch of

oppression which is a disgrace to the
country. The prisons are half 'filled
with peasants shut up for the irregular
slaughter of rabbits and birds — a
sufficient reason for kilUng a weasel,
but not for imprisoning a man. Some-
thing should be done ; it is disgraceful
to a Grovemment to stand by, and see
such enormous evils without . inter-
ference. It is true, they are not con-
nected with the struggles of party :
but still, the happiness of the common
people, whatever gentleqien may say,
ought everv now and then to be con-
sidered.

CRUEL TREATMENT fOP UN-
TRIED PRISONERS.
(E. Review, 1824.)

1. A Letter to the Sight HonowrabUBobert
Peel, one qf His Mc^jesty's Principal Se-
cretariea qf State, ^e. dte. dbc. on Prison
Idtbour. By John Headlam, M Jl, Chair-
man of the Quarter SessionB for the North
Riding of the Goonly of York. London,

. Hatchard and Son. 182S.

2. Information and Observations, respect-
ing the proposed Improvements at York
Castle, Printed by Order of the Com*
mittee of Magistrates, September, 182S.

It has been the practice all over Eng-
land, for these last fifty years*, not to
compel prisoners to work before guilt
was proved. Within these last three
or four years, however, the magistrates
of the North Riding of Yorkshire, con-
sidering it improper to support any
idle person at the county expense, have
resolved, that prisoners committed to the
House of Correction for trial, and re-
quiring county support, should work
for their livelihood ; and no sooner was
the tread-mill brought into fashion, than
that machine was adopted in the North
Riding as the species of labour by which
such prisoners were to earn their main-
tenance. If these magistrates did not
consider themselves empowered to bur-
den the county rates for the support
of prisoners before trial, who would not
contribute to support themselves, it does
not appear, from the publication of the
Reverend Chairman of the Sessions,

* Headlam, p. 8.

UNTRIED PRISONERS.

that anj opinions of Counsel were taken
as to the legality of so patting prisoners
to work, or of refosiog them mainten-
ance if they choose to be idle ; but the
magistrates themselves decided that
such was the law of the land. Thirty
miles off, however, the law of the land
was differently interpreted ; and in the
Castle of York large snms were annu-
ally expended in the maintenance of
idle prisoners before trial, and paid by
the different Ridings, without remons-
trance or resistance.*

Such was the state of affairs in the
county of York before the enactment
of the recent prison bill After that
period, enlargements and alterations
were necessary in the county jail ; and
it was necessary also for these arrange-
ments, that the magistrates should know
whether or not they were authorised to
maintain such prisoners at the expense
of the county, as, being accounted able
and unwilling to work, still claimed
the county allowance. To questions
proposed upoil these points to three
barristers the following answers were
returned: —

" 2nd]y, I am of opinion, that the magis-
trates are empowexed, and are compelled
to maintain, at the expense of the county,
such prisoners h^ore trial as are able to
work, unable to maintain themselves, and
not willing to work; and that they have
not the power of compelling such prisoners
to work, either at the tr^-mill, or any
other species of labour.

" J. GmUTBT.

** Littcoln't Inn Fidda^ 2nd September,
1823."

" I think the magistrates are empowered,
under the tenth section (explained hy the
37th and 38th) to maintain prisoners before
trial, who are able to work, unable to main-
tain themselves by their own means, or by
employment which they themselves can
procure, and not willing to work ; and I
think also, that the words * shskll be law-
ful,' in that section, do not leave them a

* We mention the case of the North Si-
ding, to convince our readers that the prac-
tice of condemning prisoners to work before
trial has existed in some parts of England ;
for in questions like this we have always
found it more difficult to prove the exist-
ence of the facts, than to prove that they
were mischievous and unjust,

Vol IL

33

discretion on the subject, but are compul-
sory. Such prisoners can only be employed
in prison labour with their own cotuent;
and it cannot be intended that the Justices
may force such consent by withholding
from them the necessaries of life, if thQr4o
not give it. Even those who are convicted
cannot be employed at the tread-mill, which
I consider as a species of severe labour.

" J. Pjlbee.
" September Wi, 1823."

" 2nd]y, As to the point of compelling pri-
soners confined on criminal charges, and
receiving relief from the magistrates, to
reasonable labour; to that of the tread-
mill, for instance, in which, when properly
conducted, there is nothing severe or un-
reasonable ; had the question arisen prior
to the late Act, I should with confidence
have said, I thought the magistrates had a
compulsory power in this respect. Those
who cannot hve without relief in a jail,
carmot live without labour out of it. Labour
then is their avocation. Nothing is so in-
jurious to the morals and habits of the pri-
soner as the indolence prevalent in prisons ;
nothing so injurious to good order in the
prison. The analogy between this and
other cases of public support is exceed-
ingly strong ; one may almost consider it
a general principle that those who live at
the charge of the community shall, as tax
as they are able, give the community a
compensation through their labour. But
the question does not depend 'on mere ab-
stract reasoning. The stat. 19 Ch. 2. c. 4.
sect. 1. entitled, ui * Act for Belief of poor
Prisoners, and setting them on work,'
speaks of persons committed for felony and
other misdemeanours to the common jail
who many times perish h^ore trial; and
then proceeds as to setting poor prisoners
on work. Then stat. 31 G. 3. c. 46. sect. 13.
orders money to be raised for such prison-
ers of every description, as, being confined
within the said jails, or other places of con^
finement, are not able to work. A late stat.
(52 G. 8. 0. 160.) orders parish relief to such
debtors on mesne process in jails, notcounty
jails, as are not able to support themselves ;
but says nothing of finding or compelling
work. Could it be doubted, that if the
Justices were to provide work, and the
prisoner refused it, such debtors might,
like any other parish paupers, be refUsed
the relief mentioned by the statute? In
aJl the above cases, the authority to insist
on the prisoner's labour, as the condition
and consideration of relief granted him, is,
I think, either expressed or necessarily
implied : and, thus viewing the subject, I
think it was in the newer of magistrate^

D

i

34

prior to the late statute, to compel pri-
flonen, nibaisting in all or in part onpubhc
relief, to work at the tread-mill. The ob-
jection commonly made ia, that prisoners,
prior to trial, are to be accounted innocent,
and to be detained, merely that they m^
be secured for trial; to this the answer is
obnous, that the labour is neither meant
as a punishment, or a disgrace, but simply
as a compensation for the relief, at their
own request, afforded them. Under the
present statute, I, however, have no doubt
that poor prisoners are entitled to public
support, and that there can be no compul-
sory labour prior to triaL The two statutes
adverted to (19 Ch. 2. c. 4. and 81 G. 8.) are.
as &r as this subject is concerned, expressly
repealed. The Legislature then had in
contemplation the existing power of magis-
trates to order labour before trial, and
having it in contemplation, repeals it ; sub-
stituting (sect. 88.) a power of setting to
labour onhf sentenced pereons. The 13th
rule, too. (p. 777.) speaks of labour as con-
nected with convicted prisoners, and sect.
87. speaks in general terms of persons com-
mitted for trial, as labouring with their own
'consent. In opposition to these clauses, I
think it impossible to speak of implied
power, or power founded on general reason-
ing or analogy. Sostrong,however,apethe
arguments in favour of a more extended
authority in Justices of the Peace, that it
is scarcely to be doubted, that Parliament,
on a calm revision of the subject, would be
willing to restore, in a more distinct man-
ner than it has hitherto been enacted, a
general discretion on the subject. Were
this done, there is one observation I will
venture to make, which is, that should
some unfortunate association of ideas ren-
der the tread-mill a matter of ignominy to
common feelings, an enlightened magis-
tracy would scarcely compel an untried
prisoner to a species of labour which would
disgrace him in his own mind, and in that
of the public. ^

" S. W. NiOOLL.

** York, August mh, 1328.**

In consequence, we believe, of these
opinions, the North Riding magistrates,
on the 13th of October (the new bill
commencing on the Ist of September),
passed the following resolution : —
*'Tbat persons committed for trial, who
are able to work, and have the means
of employment offered them by the
visiting magistrates, by which they may
earn their support, but who obstinately
refuse to work, shall be allowed bread
and water only.**

CfiUEL TREATMENT OF

By this resolution they admit, of
course, that the counsel are right in
their interpretation of the present law;
and that magistrates are forced to
maintain prisoners before trial who do
not choose to work. The magistrates
say, howeyer, by their resolution, that
the food shall be of the plainest and
humblest kind, bread and water; mean-
ing, of course, that snch prisoners
should have a sufficient quantity of
bread and water, or otherwise the eva-
sion of the law would be in the highest
degree mean and reprehensible. But
it is impossible to suppose any sach
thing to be intended by gentlemen so
highly respectable. Their intention is
not that idle persons before trial shall
starve, but that they shall have barely
enough of the plainest food for the
support of life and health.

Mr. Headlam has written a pamphlet
to show that the old law was very
reasonable and proper ; that it is quite
right that prisoners before trial, who
are able to support themselves, but un-
willing to work, should be compelled
to work, and at the tread-mill, or that
all support should be refused them.
We are entirely of an opposite opinion :
and maintain that ^ it is neither legal
nor expedient to compel prisoners be-
fore trial to work at the tread-mill, or
at any species of labour, and that those
who refuse to work should be supported
upon a plain healthy diet. We impute
no sort of blame to the magistrates of
the North Riding, or to Mr. Headlam,
their Chairman. We have no doubt
but that they thought their measures
the wisest and the best for correcting
evil, and that they adopted them in
pursuance of what they thought to be
their duty. Nor do we enter into any
discussion with Mr. Headlam, as Chair-
man of a Quarter Sessions, but as the
writer of a pamphlet. It is only in
his capacity of author that we have
anything to do with him. In answer-*
ing the arguments of Mr. Headlam, we
shall notice at the same time, a few
other observations commonly resorted
to in defence of a system which we be*-
lieve to be extremely pernicious, and
pregnant with the worst consequences ;
and so thinking, we contend against it.

UNTRIED PRISONERS.

«

and in support of the law as it now
stands.

We will not dispute with Mr. Head-
lam, whether his exposition of the old
law he right or wrong ; because time
cannot be more unprofitably employed
than in hearing gentlemen wbd are not
lawyers discuss points of law. We
dare to say Mr. Headlam knows as
much of the laws of his country as
magistrates in general do ; but he will
pardon us for believing, that for the
moderate sum of three guineas a much
better opinion of what the law is now,
or was then, can be purchased, than it
is in the power of Mr. Headlam or of
anj county magistrate, to give for
nothing — CuUibet in arte sua creden--
dum est It is concerning the expe-
diencj of such laws, and upon that
point alone, that we are at issue with
Mr. Headlam ; and do not let this gen-
tleman suppose it to be any answer to
our remarks to state what is done in
the prison in which he is concerned,
now the law is altered. The question
is, whether he is right or wrong in his
resisoning upon what the law ought to be ;
we wish to hold out such reasoning to
public notice, and think it important
it should berefnted — doubly important
when it comes from an author, the
leader of the Quorum, who may say
with the pious JSneas,—

■ Quasque ipse miserrima vidi.

Et quorum pars magna fui.

If, in this discussion, we are forced to
insist upon the plainest and most ele-
mentary truths, the faalt is not with
us, but with those who forget them ;
and who refuse to be any longer re-
strained by those principles which have
hitherto been held to be as clear as they
are important to hnman happiness.
• To begin, then, with the nominative
case and the verb — we must remind
those advocates for the treadmill, a
parte ante (for with the, millers a parte,
poet we have no quarrel), that it is one
of the oldest maxims of common sense,
common humanity, and common law,
to consider every man as innocent till
he is proved to be guilty ; and not only
to consider him to be innocent, but to
treat him as if he were so ; to exercise

85
upon his case not merely a barren
speculation, but one whidi produces
practical effects, and which secures to
a prisoner the treatment of an honest,
unpunished man. Now, to compel pri-
soners before trial to work at the tread*
mill, as the condition of their support,
must, in a great number of instances,
operate as a very severe punishment.
A prisoner may be a tailor, a watch-
maker, a bookbinder, a printer, totally
nnaccQstomed to any such species of
labour. Such a man may be cast into
jail at the end of August"*^, and not
tried till the March following; is it no
punishment to such a man to walk up
hill like a turnspit dog, in an infamous
machine, for six months ? and yet there
are genUemen who suppose that the
conmion people do not consider this
as punishment ! — that the gayest and
most joyous of human beings is a
treader, untried by a jnxy of his coun-
trymen, in the fifth month of lifting up
the leg, and striving against the law of
gravity, supported by the glorious in-
formation which he receives from the
turnkey, that he has all the time been
grinding flour on the other side of the
wall ! If this sort of exercise, neces-
sarily painful to sedentary persons, is
agreeable to persons accustomed to
labour, then make it volantary — give
the prisoners their choice— give more
money and more diet to those who can
and will labour at the tread-mill, if
the tread-mill (now so dear to magis-
trates) is a proper punishment for
untried prisoners. The position we are
contending against is, that alf poor
prisoners who are able to work should
be put to work upon the tread-mill,
the inevitable consequence of which
practice is, a repetition of gross injus-
tice by the infliction of undeserved
punishment ; for punishment, and se-
vere punishment, to such persons as we
have enumerated, we must consider it
to be.

* Mr. Headlam^ as we understand him,
would extend this labour to all poor pri-
soners before trial, in jails which are deli-
vered twice a year at the Assizes, as well as
to Houses of Correction delivered four
times a year at the Sessions ; i.0. not extend
the labour, but refuse all support to those
who refuse the labour — a distinction, but
not a difference.

D 2

A

S6

But punishments are not merely to
be estimated by pain to the limbs, but
by the feelings of the mind. Gentle-
men punishers are sometimes apt to
forget that the conmion people have
any mental feelings at all, and think,
if body and belly are attended to, that
.persons under a certain income have
.no right to likes and dislikes. The
labour of the tread-mill is irksome,
doll, monotonous, and disgusting to
the last degree. A man does not see
his work, does not know what he is
doing, what progress he is making ;
there is no room for art, contrivance,
ingenuity, and superior skill — all which
are the cheering circumstances of hu-
roan labour. The husbandman sees
the field gradually subdued by the
plough ; the smith beats the rude mass
of iron by degrees into its meditated
shape, and gives it a meditated utility ;
the tailor accommodates his parallelo-
gram of cloth to the lumps and bumps
of the human body, and, holding it up,
exclaims, ** This will contain the lower
moiety of a human being/' Bat the
treader does nothing but tread ; he sees
no change of objects, admires no new
relation of parts, imparts no new quali-
ties to matter, and gives to it no new
arrangements and positions ; or, if he
does, he sees and knows it not, but is
turned at once from a rational being,
by a justice of peace, into a primum
mobile, and put upon a level with a rush
of water or a puff of steam. It is im-
possible to get gentlemen to attend to
the distinction between raw and roasted
prisoners, without which all discussion
on prisoners is perfectly ridiculous.
Nothing can be more excellent than
this kind of labour for persons to whom
you mean to make labour as irksome
as possible ; but for this very reason,
it is the labour to which an untried
prisoner ought not to be put.

It is extremely uncandid to say that
a man is obstinately and incorrigibly
idle, because he wiU not submit to such
tiresome and detestable labour as that
of the tread-mill. It is an old feeling
among Englishmen that there is a
difference between tried and untried
persons, between accused and
victed

CBUEL TREATMENT OP

were in fashion before this new magis-
trate's plaything was inrented ; and
we are convinced that many indus-
trious persons, feeling that they have
not had their trial, and disgusted with
the nature of the labour, would refuse
to work at the tread-mill, who would
not be averse to join in any commoa
and fair occupation. Mr. Headlam
says, that labour may be a privilege as
well as a punishment So nuiy taking
physic be a privilege, in cases where it
ifl asked for as a diaritable relief, but
not if it is stuffed down a man's throat
whether he say yea or nay. Certainly
labour is not necessarily a punishment ;
nobody has said it is so ; but Mr.
Headlam's labour is a punishment,
because it is irksome, infamous, un-
asked for, and undeserved. This gen-
tleman however observes, that com-
mitted persons have cffended the laws;
and the sentiment expressed in these
words is the true key to his pamphlet
and his system — a perpetual tendency
to confound the convicted and the
accused.

con-

"With respect to those sentenced to
labour as a punishment, I apprehend there
is no di£ferenoe of opinion. All are agreed
that it is a great defect in any prison where
such convicts are unemployed. But as to
all other prisoners, whether debtors, per-
sons committed for trial, or convicts not
sentenced to hard labour, if they have no
means of subsisting themselves, and must,
if dischai^d, either laboiur for their liveli-
hood or apply for parochial relief; it seems
unf&ir to society at lai^, and especiidly to
those who maintain themselves by honest
industry, that those who, by offending the
laeot, have subjected themselves to imprp-
sonment, should be lodged, and clothed, and
fed^jrithout being called upon for the same
exertions which others have to use to obtain
such advantages."— (fltftuUam, pp. 28, 24.)

Now nothing can be more unfair
than to say that such men have of-
fended the laws. That is the very
question to be tried, whether they have
offended the laws or not ? It is merely
because this little circumstance is taken
for granted, that we have any quarrel
at all with Mr. Headlam and his schooL

" I can make," says Mr. Headlam, " every

delicate consideration for the rare case of a

persons. These old opinions 1 person perfectly innooent being committed

UNTRIED PRISONERS.

37

to jail on suapieioii of crime. Snch person
is deservedly an object of oompaasion, for
having fallen under circumstances which
subject him to be charged witii crime, and,
consequently, to be deprived of his liberty:
but if he has been in the habit of labouring
for his bread before his commitment, there
does not appear to be any addition to his
misfortune in being called upon to work
for his subsistence in prison."— {Seadlam,
p. 24.)

And yet Mr. Headlam describes this
▼ery pnnishment, which does not add
to the misfortunes of an innocent man,
to be generally disagreeable, to he duU,
irksotne, to excite a strong disliket to be a
duQ, monotonous labour^ to be a contriv-
ance which connects the idea of diseont'
fort with a jail (p. 36.). So that Mr.
Headlam looks upon it to be no in-
crease of an innocent man's misfor-
tunes, to be constantly employed npon
a dull, irksome, monotonous laboar,
which excites a strong dislike, and
connects the idea of discomfort with a
jaiL We cannot stop, or stoop to con-
sider, whether beating hemp is more or
less dignified than working in a mill.
The simple rule is this,— whatever
felons do> men not yet proved to be
felons should not be compelled to do.
It is of no use to look into laws become
obsolete by alteration of manners. For
these fifty years past, and before the
invention of tread-mills, untried men
were not put npon felons' work ; but
with the miU came in the mischief.
Mr. Headlam asks, How can men be
employed upon the ancient trades in
a prison ? — certainly they cannot ; but
are human occupations so few, and is
the ingenuity of magistrates and jailers
so limited, that no occupations can be
found for innocent men, but those which
are shameful and odious ? Does Mr.
Headlam really believe, that grown up
and baptized persons are to be satisfied
with such arguments, or repelled by
snch difficulties.

It is some compensation to an ac-
quitted person, that the labour be has
gone through unjustly in jail has taught
him some trade, given him an insight
into some species of labour in which he
may hereafter improve himself; but
Mr. Headlam's prisoner, after a verdict
of acquittal, has learnt no other art

than that of walking up hiU ; he has
nothing to rememl^r or recompense
him but three months of undeserved
ftnd unprofitable torment* The verdict
of the Jury has pronounced him steady
in his morals ; Uie conduct of the Jus-
tices has made him stiff in his joints.

But it is next contended by some
persons, that the poor prisoner is not
compelled to work, because he has the
alternative of starving if he refuses to
work. Ton take up a poor man upon
suspicion, deprive him of all his usual
methods of getting his livelihood, and
then giving him the first view of the
tread-mill, he of the Quorum thus ad-
dresses him: — ** My amiable friend,
we use no compulsion with untried
prisoners. Yon are free as air till
yon are found guilty ; only it is my
duty to inform yon, as you have no
money of your own, that the disposi-
tion to eat and drink which you have
allowed you sometimes feel, and upon
which I do not mean to cast any degree
of censure, cannot possibly be gratified
bnt by constant grinding in this ma«
chine. It has its inconveniences, I
admit ; but balance them against the
total want of meat and drink^ and de«
cide for yourself. You are perfectly
at liberty to make your choice, and I
by no means wish to influence your
judgment." Bat Mr. Nicoll has a
curious remedy for all this miserable
tyranny; he says it is not meant as a
pnnishment. But if I am conscious that
I never have committed the offehce,
certain that I have never been found
guilty of it, and find myself tost into
Uie middle of an infernal machine, by
the folly of those who do not know
how to use the power intrusted to
them, is it any consolation to me to be
told, that it is not intended as a punish-*
ment,that it is a lucubration of Justices,
a new theory of prison-discipline, a va-
luable county experiment going on at
the expense of my arms, legs, back,
feelings, character, and rights? We
must tie those prsBgustant punishers
down by one questioui Do you mean
to inflict any degree of punishment
upon persons merely for being sas-
pected ? — or at least any other degree
of punishment than that without which

D 3

38

CRUBL TREATMENT OF

criminal justice cannot exist, detention?
If 70a do, why let anyone ont upon
baU ? For the question between us is
not, bow suspected persons are to be
treated, and whether or not they are to
be punished ; but how suspected poor
persons are to be treated, who want
county support in prison. If to be
suspected is deserving of punishment,
then no man ought to be let ont upon
bail, but every one should be kept
grinding from accusation to trial ; and
so ought all prisoners to be treated for
offences not bailable, and who do not
want the county allowance. And yet no
grinding philosopher contends, that all
suspected persons should be put in the
mill — but only those who are too poor
to find bail, or buy proTisions.

If there are, according to the doc>
trines of the millers, to be two punish-
ments, the first for being suspected of
committing the offence, and the second
for committing it, there should be two
trials as well as two punishments. Is
the man really suspected, or do his
accusers only pretend to inspect him ?
Are the suspecting of better character
than the suspected ? Is it a light sus-
picion which may be atoned for by
grinding a peck a day ? Is it a bushel
case ? or is it one deeply criminal,
which requires the flour to be ground
fine enough for French rolls ? But we
must put an end to such absurdities.

It is very untruly stated, that a pri-
soner, before trial, not compelled to
work, and kept upon a plain diet,
merely sufficient to maintain him in
health, is better off than he was pre-
vious to his accusation ; and it is asked,
with a triumphant leer, whether the
situation of any man ought to be im-
proved, merely because he has become
an object of suspicion to his fellow-
creatures ? This happy and fortunate
man, however, is separated from his
wife and family ; his liberty is taken
away ; he is confined within four walls;
he has'the refiection that his family are
existing upon a precarious parish sup-
port, that his little trade and property
are wasting, that his character has
become infamous, that he has incurred
ruin by the malice of others, or by his
own crimes, that in a few weeks he b

to forfeit his life, or be banished from
everything he loves upon earth. This
is the improved situation, and the re-
dundant happiness which requires the
penal circumvolutions of the Justice's
mill to cut off so unjust .a balance of
gratification, and bring him a little
nearer to what he was before impri-
sonment and accusation. It would be
just as reasonable to say, that an idle
man in a fever is better off than a
healthy man who is well and earns his
bread. He may be better off if you
look to the idleness alone, though that
is doubtful; but is he better off if all
the aches, agonies, disturbances, deli-
riums, and the nearness to death, tcre
added to the lot ?

Mr. Headlam's panacea for all pri-
soners before trial, is the tread-mill:
we beg bis pardon — for all poor pri-
soners; but a man who is about to be
tried for his life, often wants all lua
leisure time to reflect upon his defence.
The exertions of every man within the
walls of a prison are necessarily crip-
pled and impaired. What can a pri-
soner answer who is taken hot and
reeking from the tread-mill, and asked
what he has to say in bis defence?
his answer naturally is — ''I have been
grinding com instead of thinking of
my defence, and have never been al-
lowed the proper leisure to think of
protecting my character and my life.**
This is a very strong feature of cruelty
and tyranny in the mill We ought to
be sure that every man ^has had the
fullest leisure to prepare for his de-
fence, that his mind and body have
not been harassed by vexatious and
compulsory employment The publio
purchase, at a great price, legal ac-
curacy, and legal talent, to accuse a
man who has not, perhaps, one shilling
to spend upon his defence. It is atro-
cious cruelty not to leave him full
leisure to write his scarcely legible
letters to his witnesses, and to use all
the melancholy and feeble means which
suspected poverty can employ for its
defence against the long and heavy
arm of power.

A prisoner, upon the system recom-
mended by Mr. Headlam, is committed,
perhaps at the end of August, and

UNTRIED PRISONERS.

39

brought to trial the March following ;
and, after all, the bill is either thrown
oat by the grand jury, or the prisoner
is fall/ acquitted; and it has been
found, we belieye, by actual returns,
that, of committed prisoners, about a
half are actually acquitted, or their ac-
cusations dismissed by the grand jury.
This may be very true, say the adro-
cates of this system, but we know that
many men who are acquitted are guilty.
They escape through some mistaken
lenity of the law, or some corruption
of evidence ; and as they have not
had their deserved punishment after
trial, we are not sorry they had it
before. The English law says, better
many guilty escape, than that one in-
nocent man perish; but the humane
notions of the mill are bottomed upon
the principle, that all had better be
punished lest any escape. They evince
a total mistrust in the jurisprudence of
the country, and say the results of trial
are so uncertain, that it is better to
punish all the prisoners before they
come into Court Mr. Headlam forgets
that general rules are not beneficial in
each individual instance, but beneficial
upon the whole; that they are preserved
becaase they do much more good than
harm, though in some particular in-
stances they do more harm than good ;
yet no respectable man violates them
on that account, but holds them sacred
for the great balance of advantage they
confer upon mankind. It is one of the
greatest crimes, for instance, to take
away the life of a man; yet there are
many men whose death wotdd be a
good to society, rather than an evil
Every good man respects the property
of others; yet to take from a worthless
miser, and to give it to a virtuous man
in distress, would be an advantage.
Sensible men are never staggered when
they see the exception. They know the
importance of the rule, and protect it
most eagerly at the very moment when
it is doing more harm than good. The
plain rule of justice is, that no man
should be punished till he is found
guilty; but because Mr. Headlam oc-
casionally sees a bad man acquitted
under this rale, and sent out un-
punished upon the world, he forgets

all the general good and safety of the
principle is debauched by the excep-
tion, and applauds and advocates a
system of prison discipline which ren-
ders injustice certain, in order to pre-
vent it from being occasional.

The meaning of all preliminary im-
prisonment is, that the accused person
should be forthcoming at the time of
trial. It was never intended as a
punishment Bail is a far better in-
vention than imprisonment, in cases
where the heavy punishment of the
offence would not induce the accused
person to run away from any bail
Now, let us see the enormous differ-
ence this new style of punishment
makes between two men, whose only
difference is, that one is poor and the
other rich. A and B are accused of
some bailable offence. A has no bail
to offer, and no money to support
himself in prison, and takes, therefore,
his four or five months in the tread-
mill. B gives bail, appears at his triaU
and both are sentenced to two months*
imprisonment. In this case, the one
suffers three times as much as the other
for the same offence : but suppose A
is acquitted and B found guilty, —
the innocent man has then laboured
in the tread-mill five months bec-ause
he was poor, and the guilty man labours
two months because he was rich. We
are aware that there must be, even
without the tread-mill, a great and an
inevitable difference between men (in
pari delicto), some of whom can give
bail, and some not ; but that difference
becomes infinitely more bitter and ob-
jectionable, in proportion as detention
before trial assumes the character of
severe and degrading punishment

If motion in the tread-mill was other-
wise as fascinating as millers describe
it to be, still the mere degradation of
the punishment is enough to revolt
every feeling of an iintried person. It is
a punishment consecrated to convicted
felons — and it has every character that
such punishment ought to have. An
untried person feels at once, in getting
into the mill, that he is put to the labour
of the guilty ; that a mode of employ-
ment has been selected for him, which
renders him infamous before a single

D 4

40

CRUEL TRBATifENT OF

fact or argument has been advanced
to establish his guilt. If men are put
into the tread-mill before trial, it is
literally of no sort of consequence
whether they are acquitted or not.
Acquittal does not shelter them from
punishment, for they have already been
punished. It does not screen them
from infamy, for they have already
been treated as if they were infamous ;
and the association of the tread-miU
and crimes is not to be got over. This
machine flings all the power of Juries
into the hands of the magistrates, and
makes every simple commitment more
terrible than a conviction ; for, in a
conviction, the magistrate considers
whether the offence has been committed
or not ; and does not send the prisoner
to jail unless he think him guilty ; but
in a simple commitment, a man is not
sent to jail because the magistrate is
convinced of his guilt, but because he
thinks a fair question may be made to
a Jury whether the accused person is
guilty or not. Still, however, the con-
victed and the suspected both go to the
same mill ; and he who is there upon
the doubt, grinds as much flour as the
other whose guilt is established by a
full examination of conflicting evidence.
Where is the necessity for such a vio-
lation of common sense andx^ommon
justice ? Nobody asks for the idle pri-
soner before trial more than^a very
plain and moderate diet. Offer him,
if you please, some labour which is less
irksome, and less infamous than the
tread-mill, — bribe him by improved
diet, and a share of the earnings ; there
will not be three men out of an hun-
dred who would refuse such an invita-
tion, and spurn at such an improvement
of their condition. A little humane
attention and persuasion, among men
who ought, upon every principle of jus-
tice, to be considered as innocent, we
should have thought much more con-
sonant to English justice, and to the
feelings of English magistrates, than
the Rack and Wheel of Cubitt.*

* It is singular enough, that we use these
observations in reviewing the pamphlet
and system of a gentleman remmable for
the urbanity of Ms manners, and the mild-
ness and humanity of his disposition*

Prison discipline is an object of con-
siderable importance ; but the common
rights of mankind, and the common
principles of justice, and humanity,
and liberty, are of greater consequence
even than prison discipline. Right and
wrong, innocence and guilt, must not
be confounded, that a prison-fancying
Justice may bring his friend into the
prison and say, " Look what a spectacle
of order, silence, and decorum we have
established here ! no idleness, all grind-
ing ! — we produce a penny roll every
second, — our prison is supposed to be
the best regulated prison in England, —
Cubitt is making us a new wheel of
forty-felon power, — look how white
the flour is, all done by untried pri-
soners — as innocent as lambs !** If
prison discipline be to supersede every
other consideration, why are penniless
prisoners alone to be put into the mill
before trial ? If idleness in jails is so
pernicious, why not put all prisoners in
the tread-miil, the rich as well as those
who are unable to support themselves ?
Why are the debtors left out? If
fixed principles are to be given up,
and prisons turned into a plaything for
magistrates, nothing can be more un*
picturesque than to see one half of the
prisoners looking on, talking, gaping,
and idling, while their poorer brethren
are grinding for dinners •and suppers.

It is a very weak argument to talk
of the prisoners earning their support,
and the expense to a county of main-
taining prisoners before trial,— as if
any rational man could ever expect to
gain a farthing by an expensive mil),
where felons are the moving power,
and justices the superintendents, or
as if such a trade must not neces-
sarily be carried on at a great loss. If
it were just and proper that prisoners,
before trial, should be condemned to
the mill, it wonld be of no consequence
whether the county gained or lost by
the trade. But the injustice of the
practice can never be defended by its
economy ; and the fact is that it in«
creases expenditure, while it violates
principle. We are aware, that by
leaving out repairs, alterations, and
first costs, and a number of little par-
ticulars, a very neat accoant, signed by

UNTRIED PRISOKEltS.

41

a jailer, may be made up, which shall
make the mill a miraculons combina-
tion of mercantile speculation and
moral improvement ; but we are too
old for all this. We accase nobody of
intentional misrepresentation. This is
quite out of the question with persons
so highly respectable; but men are con-
stantly misled by the spirit of system,
and egregiously deceive themseives —
even very good and sensible men.

Mr. Headlam compares the case of a
prisoner before trial, claiming support,,
to that of a pauper claiming relief from
his parish* But it seems to us that no
two cases can be more dissimihir. The
prisoner was no pauper before yon
took him up, and deprived him of his
customers, tools, and market It is by
your act and deed that he is fallen into
a state of pauperism ; and nothing can
be more preposterous, than first to
make a man a pauper, and then to
punish him for being so. It is true,
that the apprehension and detention of
the prisoner were necessary for the
purposes of criminal justice; but the
consequences arising &om this neces-
sary act cannot yet be imputed to the
prisoner. He has brought it upon him-
self, it will be urged ; but that remains
to be seen, and will not be known till
he is tried; and till it is known you
have no right to take it for granted,
and to punish him as if it were proved.

There seems to be in the minds of
some gentlemen a notion, that when
once a person is in prison, it is o^ little
consequence how he is treated after-
wards. The tyranny which prevailed,
of putting a person in a particular dress
before tnal, now abolished by act of
Parliament, was justified by this train
of reasoning: — The man has been
rendered infamous by imprisonment.
He cannot be rendered more so, dress
him as you will. His character is not
rendered worse by the tread-mill, than
it 18 by being sent to the place where
the tread-mill is at work. The sub-
stance of this way of thinking is, that
when a fellow-creature is in the frying-
pan, there is no harm in pushing him
into the fire ; that a little more misery
—a little more infamy — a few more
links, are of no sort of consequence in

a prison-life. If this monstrous style
of reasoning extended to hospitals as
well as prisons, there would be no harm
in breaking the small bone of a man*s
leg, because the large one was fractured,
or in peppering with small shot a per-
son who was wounded with a cannon*
balL The principle is, because a man
is very wretched, there is no harm in
making him a little more so. The
steady answer to all this is, that a man
is imprisoned before trial, sol^ for the
purpose of securing his appearance at
his trial ; and that no punishment nor
privation, not clearly and candidly
necessary for that purpose, should be
inflicted upon him. I keep you in
prison, because criminal justice would
be defeated by your flight, if I did not ;
but criminal justice can go on very well
without degrading you to hard and
infamous labour, or denying you any
reasonable gratification. For these
reasons, the first of those acts is just,
the rest are mere tyranny.

Mr. NicoU, in his opinion, tells us,
that he has no doubt Parliament would
amend the bill, if the omission were
stated to them. We, on the contrary,
have no manner of doubt that Parlia-
ment would treat such a petition with
the contempt it deserved. Mr. Peel is
much too enlightened and sensible to
give any countenance to such a great
and glaring error. In this case, — and
we wish it were a more frequent one
— the wisdom comes from within, and
the error firom without the walls of
Parliament

A prisoner before trial who can sup«
port himself, ought to be allowed every
fair and rational enjoyment which he
can purchase, not incompatible with
prison discipline. He should be allowed
to buy ale or wijie in moderation, — to
use tobacco, or anything else he can
pay for, within the above-mentioned
limits. If he cannot support himself,
and declines work, then he should be
supported upon a very plain, but still
a plentiful diet (something better, we
think, than bread and water) ; and all
prisoners before trial should be allowed
to work. By a liberal share of earnings
(or rather by rewards, for there would
be no earnings), and also by an im*

42

AMEBICA.

proYed diet, and in ibe hands of humane
magistrates*, there would soon appear
to be no necessity for appealing to the
tread-mill till trial was over.

This tread-mill, after trial, is cer-
tainly a very excellent method of
punibhment, as far as we are yet ac-
qaainted with its effects. We think,
at present, however, it is a little abused ;
and hereafter it is our intention to ex-
press our 'opinion upon the limits to
which it ^ught to be confined. Upon
this point, however, we do not much
differ from Mr. Headlam ; although in
his remarks on the treatment of pri-
soners before trial, we think he has
made a very serious mistake, and has
attempted (without knowing what he
was doing, and meaning, we are per-
suaded, nothing but what was honest
and just), to pluck up one of the
ancient landmarks of human justice.!

* All magistrates should remember, that
notlung ia more easy to a person entrusted
with power than to convince himself it is
his duty to treat his fellow-oreatures with
severity and rigour,— and then to persuade
himself that he is doing it very reluctantly,
and contrary to his real feeling.

t We hope this article will conciliate our
old friend Hr. Eoscoe; who is very angry
vritluus for some of our former lucubrations
on prison discipline,— and, above alL be-
cause we are not grave enough for nim.
The difference ia thus stated : — Six ducks
are stolen. Hr. Boscoe would commit the
man to prison for six weeks, perhaps,—
reason with him, argue with him, give him
tracts, send clergymen to him, work him
gently at some useftil trade, and try to turn
him from the habit of stalling poultry.
WewovHd keep him hard at work twelve
hours every day at the tread-mill, teed him
only BO as not to impair his hnlth, and
then give him as much of Hr. Boacoe's ejs-
tem as was compatible with our own; and
we think our method would diminish the
number of duck-stealers more efTectually
than that of the historian of Leo X. The
primary duck-stealer would, we think, be
as effectualhr deterred from repeating the
offence by the tenror of our imprisonment,
as 1^ the excellence of Hr. Boacoe's educa-
tion—and, what is of infinitely greater
consequence, innumerable duck-stealers
woula be prevented. Because punislmient
does not annihilate crime, it is foUy to say
it does not lessen it. It did not stop the
murder of Hrs. Bonatly ; but how many
Hrs. Donattys has it ke)jt alive 1 When we
recommend severity, we recommend, of
course, that d^nree of severity which will
not excite compassion for the suflierer, and
lessen the horror of the crime. This is why
we do not recommend torture and amputa-
tion of limba. When a man has been

AMERICA. (E. Beyiew, 1824.)

1. Travelt throuffh Part qf the United
State* and Canada, in 1818 and 1819. Sy
John H. Duncan, AJB. Glasgow. 1828.

2. LetterB from North AmerieOt written
during a Tour in the United Stmtee and
Canada. By Adam Hodgson. London.

1824

8. An . JSErottrsum trough the United
Statet and Canada, during the Tears
1822-8. By an English (xentleman; Lon-

* don. 1824.

There is a set of miserable persons in
England, who are dreadfully afraid of
America and everything American —
whose great delight is to see that
country ridiculed and vilified — and
who appear to imagine that all the
abuses which exist in this country ac-
quire additional vigour and chance of
duration from every book of travels
which pours forth its venom and false-
hood on the United States. We shall
from time to time call the attention of
the public to this subject, not from any
party spirit, but because we love trutb*
and praise excellence wherever we find
it ; and because we think the example
of America will in many instances tend

proved to have committed a crime, it is
expedient that society should make use of
that man for the diminution of crime: he
belongs to them for that purpose. Our
primary duty, in such a case, is so to treat
the culprit that many other persons may be
rendered better, or prevented from being
worse, by dread of the same treatment;
and, making this the principal obiect, to
combine with it as much as possible the
improvement of the individual. The ruffian
who killed Mr. Humford was hung within
forty-eight hours. Upon Hr. Boeooe's
principles, this was wrong ; for it certainly
was not the way to reclaim the man : — We
say on the contrary, the object was to do
anything with the man which would render
murders less frequent, and that the conver-
sion of the man was a mere trifle compared
to this. His death probably prevented the
necessity of reclaiming a dozen murderers.
That death will not, indeed, prevent all
murders in that county; but many who
have seen it, and many who have heard of
it, will swallow their revenge trcin the
dread of being hanged. Hr. Bosooe is very
severe upon our style : but poor dear Hr.
Boscoe should remember that men have
different tastes and different methods of

Soing to work. We feel these matters as
eepiy as he does. But why so cross upon
this or any other subject f

AMERICA.

to open the ejes ef Englishmen to their
trae interests.

The Economy of America is a great
and important object for our imitation.
The salary of Mr. Bagot, our late Am-
bassador, was, we believe, rather higher
than that of the President of the United
States. The Vice-President receives
rather less than the second Clerk of the
House of Commons ; and all salaries,
civil and military, are upon the same
scale; and yet no country is better
served than America! Mr. Hume has
at last persuaded the Englbh people
to look a little into their accounts, and
to see how sadly they are plundered.
But we ought to suspend our contempt
for America, and consider whether we
have not a very momentous lesson to
learn from this wise and cautious people
on the subject of economy.

^ A lesson on the importance of Reli-
gions Toleration, we are determined,
it would seem, not to learn, — either
from America, or from any other
quarter of the globe. The high sheriff
of New York, last year, was a Jew. It
was with the utmost difficulty thart a
bill was carried this year to allow the
first duke of England to carry a gold
stick before the King — because he was
a Catholic I — and yet we think our-
selves entitled to indulge in impertinent
sneers at America, — as if civilisation
did not depend more upon making
wise laws for the promotion of human
happiness, than in having good inns,
and post-horses, and civil waiters.
The circumstances of the Dissenters'
Marriage Bill are such as would excite
the contempt of a Chictaw or Cherokee,
if he could be brought to understand
them. A certain class of Dissenters
beg they may not be compelled Jo say
that they marry in the name of the
Trinity, because they do not believe in
the Trinity. Never mind, say the cor-
ruptionists, you must go on saying
you marry in the name of the Trinity
whether you believe in it or not. We
know that such a protestation from
you will be false: but, unless you make
it, your wives shall be concubines, and
your children illegitimate. Is it pos-
sible to conceive a greater or more
useless tyranny than this?

49

I " la the reUgiouB freedom which America
enj<^ I see a more unquestioned supe-
riority. In Britain we enjoy toleration,
but here they enjoy hberty. If Gtovernment
has a right to grant toleration to any par-
ticular set of religious opinions, it has also
a right to take it away ; and such a right
with regard toopinions exclusively religious
I would deny in all cases, because totally
inconsistent with the nature of religion, in
the proper meaning of the word« and equally
irreconcilable with dvil liberty, rightly so
called. God has given to each of us his
inspired word, and a rational mind to
which that word is addressed. He has also
made known to us, that each for himself
must answer at his tribunal for his prin-
ciples and conduct What maii, then, or
body of men, has a right to tell me, • You
do not think aright on religious subjects,
but we will tolerate your error?* The
answer is a most obvious one. ' Who gave
you authority to dictate?— or what exclu-
sive claim have you to infallibility ? ' If my
sentiments do not lead me into conduct
inconsistent with the welfiare of my fellow-
creatures, the question as to their accuracy
or fallacy is one between God and my own
consdenoe; and, though a fair sulgect for
ailment, is none for compulsion.

"The Inquisition undertook to regulate
astronomical science, and kings and par-
liaments have with equal propriety pre-
sumed to l^slate upon questions of
theology. The world has outgrown the
former, and it will one day be ashamed
that it has been so long of outgrowing the
latter. The founders of the American
republic saw the absurdity of employing
the attorney-general to refiite deism and
infidelity, or of attempting to influence
opinion on abstract subjects by penal en-
actment ; they saw also the injustice of
taxing the whole to support the religious
opinions of the few, and have set an exam-
ple which older governments will one day
or other be compelled to follow.

" In America the question is not, * What
is his creed?— but, What is his conduct?
Jews have all the privil^es of Christians ;
Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and Indepen-
dents, meet on common ground. No
religious test is reqiured to quality for
public office, except in some cases a mere
verbal assent to the truth of the Christian
religion; and, in every court throughout
the country, it is optional whether you give
your affirmation or your oath."— (2>imcan'«
2Vawto, Vol II. pp. 828—330.)

In fact, it is hardly possible for any
nation to show a greater superiority
over another than the Americans, in this

44

particular, have done over this country.
They have fairly and completely, and
probably for ever, extinguished that
spirit of religious persecution which has
been the employment and the curse
of mankind for four or five centuries,
— not only that persecution which
imprisons and scourges for religious
opinions, but the tyranny of incapaci-
tation, which, by disqualifying from
civil offices, and cutting a man off from
the lawful objects of ambition, endea-
vours to strangle religious freedom in
silence, and to enjoy all the advantages,
without the blood, and noise, and fire
of persecution* What passes in the
mind of one mean blockhead is the
general history of all persecution.
**This man pretends to know better
than me — ^I cannot subdue him by ar-
'gument ; but I will take care he shall
never be mayor or alderman of the
town in which he lives ; I will never
consent to the repeal of the Test Act
or to Catholic Emancipation; I will
teach the fellow to differ from me in
religious opinions!" So says the Epis-
copalian to the Catholic — and so the
Catholic says to the Protestant. But
the wisdom of America keeps them all
down — ^secures to them all their just
rights — gives to each of them their
separate pews, and bells, and steeples
— ^makes them all aldermen in their
turns — and quietly extinguishes the
faggots which each is preparing for the
combustion of the other. Nor is this
indifference to religious subjects in the
American people, but pure civilisation
—a thorough comprehension of what
is best calculated to secure the public
happiness and peace — and a determi-
nation that this happiness and peace
shall not be violated by the insolence
of any human being, in the garb, and
under the sanction, of religion. In this
particular, the Americans are at the
head of all the nations of the world :
and at the same time they are, espe-
cially in the Eastern and Midland
States, 80 far from being indifferent on
subjects of religion, that they may be
most justly characterised as a very
religious people . but they are devout
without being unjust (the great problem
in religion); a higher proof of civilisa-

amcrica;

tion than painted tea-ctips, water proof
leather, or broad cloth at two guineas a
yard*

America is exempted, by its very
newness as a nation, from many of the
evils of the old governments of Europe.
It has no mischievous remains of
feudal institutions, and no violations of
political economy sanctioned by time,
and older than the age of reason. If
a man find a partridge upon his ground
eating his com, in any part of Ken-»
tucky or Indiana, he may kill it, even
if his father be not a Doctor of Divi-
nity. The Americans do not exclude
their own citizens from any branch of
commerce which they leave open to all
the rest of the world.

"One of them said, that he was well
acquainted with a British subject, residing
at Newark, Upper Canada, who annually
smuggled flrom 600 to 1000 chests of tea
into that province firom the United States.
He mentioned the name of this man, who
he said was growing very rich in conse-
quence } and he stated the manner in which
the fraud was managed. Now» as all the
tea ought to be brought from England, it
is of course very expensive; and therefore
the Canadian tea dealers, after buying one
or two chests at Montreal or elsewhere,
which have the Custom-house mark upon
them, fill them up ever afterwards with tea
brought from the United States. It is cal-
culated that near 10,000 chests are annually
consumed in the Canadas, of which not
more than 2000 or 8000 come from Europe.
Indeed, when I had myself entered Canada,
I was told that of every fifteen pounds of
tea sold there thirteen were smuggled. The
profit upon smutting this article is ftvm
60 to 100 per cent., and, with an extensive
and wild frontier like Canada, cannot be
prevented. Indeed it every year increases,
and is brought to a more perfect system.
But I suppose that the English Govern-
ment, whidh is the perfection of wisdom,
will never allow the Canadian merchants to
trade direct to China, in order that (from
pure charity) the whole profit of the tea
trade may be given up to the United
SUdeA/*— (Excursion, pp. 384^ 896.)

" You will readily conceive, that it is with
no small mortification that I hear these
American merchants talk of sending their
ships to London and Liverpool, to take in
goods or specie, with which to purchase
tea for the supply of European ports almost
within sight of our own shores. They often
taunt me, by asking me what our govern*

AMERICA.

45

jnent can possibly mean by prohibiting us
from engaging in a profitable trade, which
is open to them and to all the world? or
where can be onr boasted liberties, while
we tamely snbmit to the infiraction of our
natural rights, to supply a monopoly as
absurd as it is imjust, and to honour the
caprice of a company who exclude their
fellow-subjects firom a branch of commerce
which th^ do not pursue themselves, but
leave to the enterprise of foreigners, or
commercial rivals? On such occasions I
can only reply, that both our government
and people are growing wiser ; and that if
the charter of the East India Company be
renewed, when it n«ct expires, I will allow
them to infer, that the people of England
have little influence in the administration
of thehr own aflJEdrs.**— (J7od^»on'« Letters,
Vol. IL pp. 128, 129.)

Thoagh America is a confederation
of republics, they are ia many cases
much more amalgamated than the
yarloos parts of Great Britain. If a
citizen of the United States can make
a shoe, he is at liberty to make a shoe
anywhere between Lake Ontario and
New Orleans, — he may sole on the
Mississippi, — ^heel on the Missouri, —
measure Mr. Birkbeck on the little
Wabash, or take (which our best poli-
ticians do not find an easy matter) the
length of Mr. Mnnro*s foot on the baoks
of the Potowmae. But woe to the cob-
bler, who, having made Hessian boots
for the iddermen of Newcastle, should
venture to invest with these coriaceous
integuments the leg of a liege subject
at York. A yellow ant in a nest of
red ants — a butcher's dog in a fox
kennel^a mouse in a bee-hive, — all
feel the effects of untimely intrusion ;
— but far preferable their fate to that
of the misguided artisan, who, misled
by sixpenny histories of England, and
conceiving his country to have been
united at the Heptarchy, goes forth
from his native town to stitch freely
within the sea-girt limits of Albion.
Him the mayor, him the alderman,
him' the recorder, him the quarter ses-
sions would worry. Him the justices
before trial would long to get into the
tread-mill*; and would much lament

* This puts us in mind of our friend Mr.
Headlam, who, we hear, has written an
answer to our Observations on the Tread-
mill before Trial. It would have been a

that, hj a recent act, they eonld not do
so, even with the intruding tradesman's
consent; but the moment he was tried,
they would push him in with redoubled
energy, and leave him to tread himself
into a conviction of the barbarous in-
stitutions of his corporation*divided
country.

Too much praise cannot be given to
the Americans for their great attention
to the subject of Education. All the
public lands are surveyed according to
the direction of Congress. ^ They are
divided into townships of* six miles
square, by lines running with the car-
dinal points, and consequently crossing
each other at right angles. Every
township is divided into 86 sections,
each a mile square, and containing 640
acres. One section in each township
is reserved, and given in perpetuity for
the benefit of common schools. In
addition to this the states of Tennessee
and Ohio have received grants for the
support of colleges and academies.
The appropriation generally in the new
States for seminaries of the higher
orders, amount to one fifth of those for

very easy thing for us to have hung Mr.
Headlam up as a spectacle to the united
Kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ire-
land, the princi^ility of Wales, and the
town of Berwick-on-Tweed ; but we have
no wish to make a worthy and resnectable
man appear ridiculous. For these reasons
we have not even looked at his pamphlet,
and we decline entering into a controversy
upon a point, where -among men of sense
and humanity (who had not heated them-
selves in the dispute), there cannot possibly
be anv difference of opinion. All members
of both Houses of Parliament were unani-
mous in their condemnation of the odious
and nonsensical practice of working prison-
ers in the tread-mill before trial. It had
not one single advocate. Mr. Headlam and
the msgistrates of the North Biding^ in
their eagerness to save a relic of their prison
system, forgot themselves so far as to
petition to be intrusted with the ])ower of
putting prisoners to work before trial, witfh
their own consent— the answer of the Legis-
lature was, ** We will not trust you/*— the
severest practical rebuke ever received by
any public body. We will leave it to others
to determine wnether it was deserved. We
have no doubt the great body of magistrates
meant well. They must have meant well-
but they have been sadly misled, and have
thrown odium on the subordinate adminis-
tration of justice, which it is far from
deserving on other occasions, in their hands.
This strange piece of nonsense is, however,
now well eu.6Jdd.—£equie8cat in pace ! *

46

AMERICA.

common schools. It appears from Sej*
ben's Statistical Annals, that the laud,
in the states and territories on the east
side of the Mississippi, in which appro-
priations have been made, amounts to
237,300 acres ; and according to the
ratio aboTe mentioned, the aggregate
on the east side of the Mississippi is
7,900,000. The same system of appro-
priation applied to the west, will make,
for schools and colleges, 6,600,000; and
the total appropriation for literary pur-
poses, in tjie new states and territories,
14,500,000 acres, which, at two dollars
per acre, would be 29,000,000 dollars.
These facts are very properly quoted
by Mr. Hodgson ; and it is impossible
to speak to6 highly of their yalne and
importance. They quite put into the
back-ground everything which has
been done in the Old World for the
improvement of the lower orders, and
confer deservedly upon the Americans
the character of a wise, a reflecting, and
a virtuous people.

It is rather surprising that such a
people, spreading rapidly over so vast
a portion of the earth, and cultivating
all the liberal and useful arts so suc-
cessfully, should be so extremely sen-
sitive and touch V as the Americans are
said to be. We really thought at one
time they would have fitted out an
armament against the Edinburgh and
Quarterly Reviews, and burnt down
Mr. Murray's and Mr. Constable's
shops, as we did the American Capitol.
We, however, remember no other anti-
American crime of which we were
guilty, than a preference of Sfaakspeare
and Milton over' Joel Barlow and
Timothy Dwight. That opinion we
must still take the liberty of retaining.
There is nothing in Dwight comparable
to the finest passages of Paradise Lost,
nor is Mr. Barlow ever humorous or
pathetic, as the great Bard of the Eng-
lish stage is humorous and pathetic
We have always been strenuous* advo-

* AruAeat women, whether in or out of
breeches, will of course ima^ne that we are
the enemies of the institutions of our
country^ because we are the admirers of the
institutions of America: but circumstenoes
di£fer. American institutions are too new,
English institutions are ready made to our
hands. If we were to build the house

cates for, and admirers of, America—
not taking our ideas from the over-
weening vanity of the weaker part of
the Americans themselves, but from
what we have observed of their real
energy and wisdom. It is very natural
that we Scotch, who live in a little
shabby scraggy comer of a remote
island, with a climate which cannot
ripen an apple, should be jealous of the
aggressive pleasantry of more favoured
people ; but that Americans, who have
done so much for themselves, and re-
ceived so much from nature, should be
flung into such convulsions by English
Reviews and Magazines, is really a sad
specimen of Columbian juvenility. We
hardly dare to quote the following ac-
count of an American rout, for fear of
having our motives misrepresented, —
and strongly suspect that there are but
few Americans who could be brought
to admit that a Philadelphia or Boston
concern of this nature is not quite equal
to the most brilliant assemblies of
London or Paris.

C(

A tea party is a serious thii% in this
ooimtry; and some of those at which I
have been present in New York and else-
where, have been on a very large scale. In
the modem houses the two principal apart-
ments are on the first floor, and communi-
cate by large folding-doors, which on gala
days throw wide their ample portals, con-
verting the two apartments into one. At
the largest party which I have seen, there
were about thirty youngs ladies present, and
more than as many gentlemen. Every
aotk, chair, and footstool were occupied by
the ladies, and little enough room some at
them appeared to have after all. The gen-
tlemen were obliged to be content with
walking i^> and down, talking now with
one lady, now with another. Tea was
brought in by a couple of blacks, carrying
large trays, one covered with cups, the
other with cake. Slowly making the round«
and retiring at intervals for additional sup-
plies, the ladies were gpradually gone over;

afresh, we might perhaps avail ooraelves of
the improvements of a new plan; but we
have no sort of wish to pull down an excel-
lent house, .strong, warm, and (»mfortable,
because, upon second trial, we might be
able to alter and amend it,— a principle
which would perpetuate demolition and
construction. Our plan, where circum-
stances -are tolerable, is to sit down and
enjoy ourselves.

AMERICA.

47

uid ftfter ranch patience Hie gentiemen
b^an to enjoy the heverage * which cheers
but not inebriates ; ' still walking about, or
leaning against the wall, with the cup and
saucer in their hand.

. "As soon as the first course was over, the
hospitable trajys again entered, bearing a
chaos of preserves— peaches, pine4q>ple8,
ginger, oranges, citrons, pear^ && in tempt-
ing display. A few of the young gentlemen
now accompanied the resolution of the
trays, and sedulously attended to the plea-
sure of the ladies. The party was so
numerous that the period between the
commenconent and the termination of the
round was sufficient to justify a new solici-
tation; and so the ceremony continued,
with Tery little intermission, during the
whole CTening. Wine succeeded the pre-
senres, and dried fhiit followed the wine ;
which, in its turn, was supported by sand-
wiches in the name of supper, and a forlorn
Itoipe of confectionary and frost work. I
pitied the poor blacks who, like Tantalus,
had such a proftision of dainties the whole
evening at their finger ends, without the
IXMsibility of partaking of them. A little
music and dancing gave variety to the
scene; whi<di to some of us was a source of
considerable satisfiiction; for when a num-
ber of ladies were on the floor, those who
cared not for the dance had the pleasure of
getting a seat. About eleven o'clock I did
myself the honour of escorting a lady home,
and was well pleased to have an excuse for
escaping.*'— (i>»nca»'* Travels, VoL IL
pp. 279, 280.)

The coaches must be given up ; so
must the roads, and so must the inns.
Thej are of course what these accom-
modations are in all new countries;
and much like what English great-
grandfathers talk about as existing in
Uiis country at the first period of their
recollection. The great inconvenience
of American inns, however, in the eyes
of an Englishman, is one which more
sociable travellers must feel less acutely
— ^we mean the impossibility of being
alone, of having a room separate from
the rest of the company. There is
nothing which an Englishman enjoys
more than the pleasure of sulkiness,
— of not being forced to hear a word
from anybody which may occasion to
him the necessity of replying. It is
not so much that Mr. Bull disdains to
talk, as that Mr. Bull has nothing to
say. His forefathers have been out of

spirits for six or seven hundred years,
and seeing nothing but fog and vapour,
he is out of spirits too; and when there
is no selling or buying, or no business
to settle, he prefers being alone and
looking at the fire. If any gentleman
were in distress, he would willingly
lend a helping hand ; but he thinks it
no part of neighbourhood to talk to a
person because he happens to be near
him. In short, with many excellent
qualities, it must be acknowledged that
the English are the most disagreeable
of all the nations of Europe, — more
surly and morose, with less disposition
to please, to exert themselves for the
^ood of society, to make small sacri-
fices, and to put themselves out of their
way. They are content with Magna
Charter and Trial by Jury; and think
they are not bound to excel the rest of
the world in small behaviour, if they are
superior to them in g^at institutions.

We are terribly afraid that some
Americans spit upon the floor, even
when that floor is covered by good
carpets. Now all claims to civilisation
are suspended till this secretion is
otherwise disposed of. No English
gentleman has spit upon the floor since
the Heptarchy.

The curiosity for which the Ameri-
cans are so much laughed at, is not
only venial, but laudable. Where men
live in woods and forests, as is the case,
of course, in remote American settle-
ments, it is the duty of every man to
gratify the inhabitants by telling them
his name, place, age, office, virtues,
crimes, children, fortune, and remai'ks:
and with fellow-travellers it seems to
be almost a matter of necessity to do
so. When men ride together for 300 or
400 mil^ through wo^s and prairies,
it is of the greatest importance that
they should be able to guess at subjects
most agreeable to each other, and to
multiply their common topics. With-
out knowing who your companion is,
it is difficult to know both what to say
and what to avoid. You may talk of
honour and virtue to an attorney, or
contend with a Virginian planter that
men of a fair colour have no right to
buy and sell men of a dusky colour.
The following is a lively description of

48

the rights of ii)tent>gation, as mider-
stood and practised in America.

" As for the InquisiUvettets of the Ameri-
cans, I do not think it has been at ail
exaggerated.— They certainly are, as they
profess to be, a very inquiring people ; and
if we may sometimes be disposed to dispute
the claims of their love qf knowing to the
character of a liberal cariosity, we must at
least admit that they make a most liberal
use of every means in their power to gratify
it. I have seldom, however, had any diffi-
culty in repressing their home questions, if
I wished it, and without ofTending them;
but I more frequently amused myself by
putting them on the rack, civilty, and ap-
parently unconsciously, eluded their inqui-
ries for a time, and then awakening their
gratitude by such a discovery of myself as
I might choose to make. Sometimes a man
would place himself at my side in the wil-
derness, and ride for a mile or two without
the smallest communication between us,
except a slight nod of the head. He would
then, perhaps, make some grave remark on
the weather, and if I assented, in a mono-
syllable, he would stick to my side for
another mile or two, when he would com-
mence his attack. ' I reckon, stranger, you
do not belong to these partsf— *No, sir;
I am not a native of Alabama.'— ' I guess
you are fh)m the north ? *— * No, Sir ; I am
not from the north.' — ' I guess you found
the roads mighty muddy, and the creeks
swimming. Ton are come a long way, I
guess?*— *No, not so very tar; we lutve
travelled a few hundred miles since we
turned our faces westward.' — * I guess you

have seen Mr. -, or General f *

(mentioning the names of some well-known
individuals in the Middle and Southern
States, who were to serve as guide-posts to
detect our route) ; but ' I have not the plea-
sure of knowing any of them,' or, * I have
the pleasure of knowing all,' equally de-
feated his purpose, but not his hopes. ' I
reckon, stranger, you have had a good crop
of cotton this year?' — 'I am told, sir, the
crops have been imusuaUy abundant in
GaroUna and Georgia.'—' You grow tobacco,
then, I guess?' (toti^ick me to Yirginia).
— ' No ; I do not grow tobacco.' Here a
modest inquirer would give up in despair,
and trust to the chapter of accidents to
develope my name and history ; but I gene*
rally rewarded his modesty, and excit^
his gratitude, by telling him I would tor-
ment him no longer.
**The courage of a thorough-bred Yankee *

• In America, the term Yankee is applied
to the natives of New England only, and is
geuerally used with an air of pleasantry.

AMEBICA.

would rise with his difficulties ; and after a
decent interval, he would resume : ' I hope
no offence, sir ; but you know we Yankees
lose nothing for want of asking. I guess,
stranger, you are from the old country P *—
* Well, my firiend, you have guessed right at
last, and I am sure you deserve something
for your perseverance : and now I suppose
it will save us both trouble if I proceed to
the second part of the story, and tell you
where I am going. I am going to New
Orleans.' This is really no exaggerated
picture: dialogues, not indeed in these very
words, but to thU ttffeett occurred continu-
ally, uid some of them more minute and
extended than I can venture upon in a
letter. I ought, however, to say, that many
questions lose inuch of their familiarity
when travelling in the wilderness. 'Where
are you from ? ' and, ' Whither are yon
bound? ' do not appear impertinent inter-
rogations at sea; and often in the western
wilds I found myself making inquiries
which I should have thought very f^ree and
easy at liomA.**—{Sodsfton*s Letten, VbL IL
pp. 82—86.)

In all new and distant settlements
the forms of law must, of coarse, be
very limited. No justice's warrant is
current in the Dismal Swamp; consta-
bles are exceedingly puzzled in the
neighboorhood of the Mississippi; and
there is no tread-mill, either before or
after trial, on the Little Wabash.
The consequence of this is, that the
settlers take the law into their own
hands, and give notice to a justice-
proof delinquent to quit the territory.
If this notice is disobeyed, they as-
semble and whip the culprit, and this
failing, on the second visit, they cut off
his ears. In short. Captain Rock has
his descendants in America. Mankind
cannot live together without some ap-
proximation to justice ; and if the
actual government will not govern
well, or cannot govern weU, is too
wicked or too weak to do so — then
men prefer Rock to anarchy. The
following is the best account we have
seen of this system of irregular justice.

"After leaving Garlyle, I took the Shaw-
nee town road that branches off to the
S.E., and passed the Walnutt Hills, and
Moore's Prairie. These two places had a
year or two before been infested by a noto-
rious gang of robbers and forgers, who had
fixed themselves in these wild parts in
order to avoid justice. As the country

AMERICA.

became more settlecl, these desperadoes
became more and more troublesome, llie
inhabitants therefore took that method of
getting rid of them that had been adopted
not many years ago in Hopkinson and
Henderson counties, Kentucky* and which
is absolutely necessary in new aqd thinly
settled districts, where it is almost impos-
sible to punish a criminal according to legal
forms.

**(>& such occasions, therefore, all the
quiet and industrious men of a district
form themselves into companies, under the
name of ' Regulators.' They appoint offi-
cers, put themselves under their orders,
and bind themselves to assist and stand by
each other. The first step they then take
is to send notice to any notorious vaga-
bonds, desiring them to quit the State in a
certain number of dajrs, under the penalty
of receiving a domiciliiEKry visit. Should the
person who receives the notice refuse to
comply, they suddenly assemble, and when
unexpected, go in the night time to the
rogue's house, take him out, tie him to a
tree, and give him a severe whipping, every
one of the party striking him a certain
number of times.

"This discipline is generally sufficient to
drive off the culprit; but should he con-
tinue obstinate, and refuse to avail himself
of another warning, the Emulators pay him'
a second visit, inflict a still severer whip-
ping, vrith.the addition probably of cutting
off both his ears. No culprit has ever been
known to rranain after a second visit. For
instance, an old man, the fistther of afiamUy,
all of whom he educated as robbers, fixed
himaelf at Moore's Prairie, and committed
numerous thefts, &c. &c. He was hardy
enough to remain after the first visit, when
both he and his. sons received a whipping.
At the second visit the Begulators punished
him very sevemly, and cut off his ears.
This drove him off, together with his whole
gang; and travellers can now pass in per-
fect HKfety where it was once dangerous to
travel alone.

"There is also a company of Begulators
near Yincennes, who have broken up a
notorious gang of coiners and thieves who
had fixed themselves near that place.
These rascals, before they were driven off,
had parties settled at different distances in
the woods, and thus held communication
and passed horses and stolen goods from
one to another; firom the Ohio to Lake Erie,
and from thence into Canada or the New
England States. Thus it was next to im-
possible to detect the robbers, or to recover
the stolen property.

** This practice of Beffidating seems very
strange to an European. I have talked
Vol. U.

49

with some of the chief men of the Begula-
tors, who all lamented the necessity of such
a system. They veiy sensibly remarked,
that when the country became more thickly
settled, there would no longer be any
necessity tar such proceedings, and that
they should all be delighted at being able
to obtain justice tn a more formal manner.
I forgot to mention that the rascals pun-
ished have sometimes prosecuted the Begu-
lators for an assault. The juries, however,
knowing the bad character of the prosecu-
tors, would give but trifling damages,
which, divided among so many, amounted
to next to nothing for eadi individual^"—
{Exeurtion, pp. 28»— 23«.)

This same traveller mentions his
having met at table three or four Ame-
rican ex-kings — presidents who had
served their time, and had retired into
private life; he observes also upon the
effect of a democratical government ia
preventing mobs. Mobs are created
by opposition to the wishes of the
people ;— but when the wishes of the
people are consulted so completely as
they are consulted in America— all
motives for the agency of mobs are
done away.

** It is, indeed, entirely a government of
opinion. Whatever the people wish is done.
If they want any alteration of laws, tariffs,
&o., they inform their representatives, and
if there be a majority that wish it, the
alteration is made at once. In most Euro-
pean countries there is a portion of the
population denominated the mob, who, not
being acquainted with real liberty, give
themselves up to occasional flts of licen-
tiousness. But in the United States there
is no mobt for every man feels himself free.
At the time of Burr's conspiracy, Mr. Jef-
ferson said, that there was little to be
apprehended firom it, as every man felt
himself a part of the general sovereignty.
The event proved the truth of this asser-
tion; and Burr, who in any other country
would have been hanged, drawn, and quar-
tered, is at present leading an obscure life
in the city of New York, despised by every
oiie.**—(£!xcurHon, p. 70.)

It is a real blessing for America to
be exempted from that vast bnrthen of
taxes, the consequences of a long series
of foolish just and necessary wars,
carried on to please kings and queens,
or ihe waiting-maids and waiting-lords
or gentlemen who have always go-
verned kings and queens in the Old

50

X

World. The Americans owe tiiis good
to the niewness of their government ;
and though there are few classical
associations or historical recollections
in the United States, this barrenness is
well purchased bj the absence of all
the feudal nonsense, inveterate abuses,
and profligate debts of an old country.

*'Tlie good effects of a firee government
are visible throughout the whole country.
There are no tithes, no poor-rates, no ex-
cise, no heavy intenial taxes, no oommercial
monopolies. An American can make can-
dles if he have tallow, can distil brandy if
he have grapes or peaches, and can make
beer if he. have malt and hope, without
asking leave of any one, and much less with
any fear of incurring punishment. How
would a Ikrmer's wife there be astonished,
if told that it was contrary to law for her
to make soap out of the potass obtained on
the fkrm, and of the grease she herself had
saved! When an American has made these
articles, he may build his little vessel, and
take them without hlnderanoe to any part
of the world ; for there is no rich company
of merchants that can say to him, *You
shall not trade to India ; and you shall not
buy a pound of tea of the Chinese ; as, by
so doing, you would infringe upon our privi-
leges.' In consequence of this fireedom, all
the seas are covered with their vessels, and
the people at home are active and indepen-
dent. I never saw a beggar in any part of
the United States ; nor was I ever asked for
charity but once— and that was by an Inah-
man."— (.Erewrftoii, pp. 70, 71.)

America is so differently situated
from the old governments of Europe,
that the United States afford no poli-
tical precedents that are exactly- appU-
cable to our old governments. There
is no idle and discontented population.
When they have peopled themselves
np to the Mississippi, they cross to the
Missouri, and will go on till they are
stopped by the Western Ocean; and
then, when there are a nnmber of
persons who have nothing to do, and
nothing to gain, no hope for lawful
industry and great interest in pro-
moting changes, we may consider tiieir
situation as somewhat similar to oar
own, and their example as touching us
more nearly. The changes in the con-
stitution of the particular States seem
to be very frequent, very radical, and
to us very alarming;— they seem, how-

AMERICA.

ever, to be thought very little of in that
country, and to be very little heard of
In Europe. Mr. Duncan, in the fol-
lowing passage, speaks of them with
European feelings.

"The other great obstacle to the pros-
perity of the American nation, universal
suflhige*, will not exhibit the fUU extent of
its evil tendency for a long time to come;
and it is possible that ere that time some
antidote may be disooverA, to prevent or
alleviate the mischief which we might
naturally expect from it. It does, however,
seem ominous of evil, that so little ceremony
is at present used with the constitutions of
the various States. The people of Connec-
ticut, not contented with having prospered
abundantly under their old system, have
lately assembled a convention, composed of
del^ates from all parts of the country, in
which the former order of things has been
condemned entirely, and a oompletdy new
constitution manufactured ; which, among
other things, provides for the same process
being again gone through as soon as the
prqfanum tmlffus takes it into its head to '
desire it.t A sorry legagr the British Con-
stitution would be to us, if it were at the
mercy of a meeting of delegates, to be smn-
moned i^henever a mqority of the people
took a fiancy for a new one; and I am afhtid
that if the*Americans continue to cherish a
fondness for such repairs, the Highland-
man's pistol with its new stock, lock, and
barrel, will bear a close resemblance to
what is ultimately produced.*'— (DwncoM**
TraveU, YoL II. pp. 835, 336.)

In the Excursion there is a list of
the American navy, which, in conjunc-
tion with the navy of France, wiU one
day or another, we fear, settle the
Catholic question in a way not quite
agreeable to the Earl of Liverpool for
the time being, nor very creditable to
the wisdom of those ancestors of whom
we hear, and from whom we suffer so
much. The regulations of the Ame-
rican navy seem to be admirable. The
States are making great exertions to
increase this navy ; and since the cap-
ture of so many English ships, it has

* In the greater number of the States,
every white person, 21 years of age, who has
paid taxes lor one year, is a voter; in
others, some additional qualifications are
required, but they are not such as materi-
ally to limit the privilege.

f The people of the State of New York
have subsequently taken a similar fancy to
clout the cauidtxm. (1822.)

AMERICA.

51

become the faToorite science of the
people at large. Their flotillas on the
lakes completelj defeated ours daring
the last war.

Fanaticismof every description seems
to rage and flourish in America, which
has no Establishment, in about the same
degree which it does here under the
nose of an Established Church ; — they
have their projects and prophetesses,
their preaching encampments, female
preachers, and every variety of noise,
foUy, and nonsense, like ourselves.
Among the most singular of these
fanatics, are the Harmonites. Bapp,
their founder, was a dissenter from the
Lutheran Church, and therefore, of
course, the Lutheran clergy of Stut-
gard (near to which he lived) began to
put Mr. Kapp in white sheets, to prove
him guilty of theft, parricide, treason,
and all the usual cpmes of which men
dissenting from established churches
are so often guilty, — and delicate hints
were given respecting faggots ! Stat-
gard abounds with underwood and
clergy ; and — away went Mr. Bapp to
the United States, and, with a great
multitude of followers, settled about
twenty-four miles from our country-
man Mr. Birkbeck. His people have
here built a large town, and planted a
vineyard, where they make very agree-
able wine. They carry on also a very
extensive system of husbandry, and
are the masters of many flocks and
herds. They have a distillery, brewery,
tannery, make hats, shoes, cotton and
woollen cloth, and everything neces-
sary to the comfort of life. Every one
belongs to some particular trade. But
in bad weather, when there is danger
of losmg their crops, Bapp blows a
horn, and calls them all together.
Over every trade there is a head man,
who receives the money, and gives a
receipt, signed by Bapp, to whom all
the money collected is transmitted.
When any of these workmen wants a
hat or a coat, Bapp signs him an order
for the garment, for which he goes to
the store, and is fitted. They have one
large store where these manufactures
are deposited. This store is much
resorted to by the neighbourhood, on
accoant of the goodness and cheapness

of the articles. They have built an ex-
cellent house for their founder, Bapp,
— as it might have been predicted they
would have done. The Harmonites
profess equality, community of goods,
and celibacy, for the men and women
(let Mr. Malthus hear this) live sepa-
rately, and are not allowed the slightest
intercourse. In order to keep up their
numbers, they have once or twice sent
over for a supply of Germans, as they
admit no Americans, of any intercourse
with whom they are very jealous. The
Harmonites dress and live plainly. It
is a part of their creed that they should
do so. Bapp, however, and the head
men have no such particular creed for
themselves; and indulge in wine, beer,
grocery, and other irreligious diet.
Bapp is both governor and priest, —
preaches to them in church, and directs
all their proceedings in their working
hours. In short, Bapp seems to have
made use of the religions propensities
of mankind, to persuade one or two
thousand fools to dedicate their lives
to his service ; and if they do not get
tired, and fling their prophet into a
horse-pond, they will in all probability
disperse as soon as he dies.

Unitarians are increasing very fast
in the United States, not being kept
down by charges from bishops and
archdeacons, their natural enemies.

The author of the Excursion remarks
upon the total absence of all games
in America. No cricket, foot-ball, nor
leap-frog — all seems solid and profit-
able.

** One thing that I could not help remark-
ing with regard to the Americans in general,
is the total want of all those games and
sports that obtained for our oountiy the
appellation of ' Merry England.' Although
children usually transmit stories and sports
firom one generation to another, and al-
though many of our nursery games and .
tales are supposed to have been imported
into England in the vessels of Hengist and
Horsa^ yet our brethren in the United
States seem entirely to have forgotten the
childish amusements of our oommcm ances-
tors. In America I never saw even the
schoolboys playing at any game whatsoever.
Cricket, foot-ball, quoits, &c. i^pear to be
utterly unknown ; and I believe that if an
American were to see grown-up men playing
at cricket, he would express as much as-

B 2

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN EOCK.

52

tonishment an the Italians did when some
Englishmen played at this finest of all
games in the Casina at Florence. Indeed,
that joyous spirit which, in our country,
animates not only childhood, but also ma-
turer age, can rarely or never be seen
among the inhabitants of the United
Btate8."~(.Er<n«r9um, pp. 602, 603.)

These are a few of the leading and
prominent circamstances respe<!ting
America, mentioned in the various
works before us : of which works we
can recommend the Letters of Mr.
Hodgson, and the Excursion into
Canada, as sensible, agreeable books,
written in a very fair spirit

America seems, on the whole, to be
a conntry possessing vast advantages,
and little inconveniences ; they have
a cheap government, and bad roads ;
they pay no tithes, and have stage
coaches without springs. They have
no poor-laws, and no monopolies —
but their inns are inconvenient, and

more than we do, or more despise the
pitiful propensity which exists among
Grovernment runners to vent their small
spite at their character ; but on the
subject of slavery, the conduct of
America is, and has been, most repre-
hensible. It.is impossible to speak of
it with too much indignation and con-
tempt ; but for it we should look for-
ward with unqualified pleasure to such
a land of freedom, and such a magni-
ficent spectacle of human happiness.

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN BOCK.
(E. Review, 1824.)

Memoirs qf Captain Bock, the celebrated
Irish Chieftain; with sopie Account qf
Me Ancestors, Written by Himself.
Fourth Edition. 12mo. London. 1824.

This agreeable and vritty book is
Dui uieir luiiB ttio lu^^uuvcuioiiu, «•"*« ■ generally suppo
travellers are teased with questions, ten by Mr. Thomas Moore, a gentle-
They have no collections in the fine man of small stature, but full of gemus,
arts 5; but they have no Lord Chan-
cellor, and they can go to law with-
out absolute ruin. They cannot make
Latin verses, but they expend immense
sums in the education of the poor. In
all this the balance is prodigiously in
their favour : but then comes the great
disgrace and danger of America — the
existence of slavery, which, if not
timously corrected, will one day entail
(and ought to entail) a bloody servile
war upon the Americans — which will
separate America into slave States and
States disclaiming slavery, and which
remains at present as the foulest blot
in the moral character of that people.
A high-spirited nation, who cannot
endure the slightest act of foreign ag-
gression, and who revolt at the very
ibhadow of domestic tyranny, beat with

and a steady fiiend of all that is honour-
able and just. He has here borrowed
the name of a celebrated Irish leader,
to typify that spirit of violence and
insurrection which is necessarily gene-
rated by systematic oppression, and
rudely avenges its crimes ; and the
picture he has drawn of its prevalence
in that unhappy country is at once
piteous and frightful. Its effect in
exciting our horror and indignation is
in the long run increased, we think, —
though at first it may seem counter-
acted, by the tone of levity, and even
jocularity, under which he has chosen
to veil the deep sarcasm and substan-
tial terrors of his story. We smile at
first, and are amusisd— and wonder, as
we proceed, that the humorous nar-

.iiauuw ui uvi^^^v. v-""/» — '^ati^e s^°^^^ P^^^'"''® conviction and

cart-whips, and bind with chains, and pity-shame, abhorrence, and despair!

murder for the merest trifles, wretched
human beings, who are of a more
dusky colour than themselves ; and
have recently admitted in their Union
a new State, with the express per-
mission of ingrafting this atrocious
wickedness into their constitution !
No one can admire the simple wisdom
and manly firmness of the Americans

England seems to have treated Ire-
land much in the same way as Mrs.
Brownrigg treated her apprentice —
for which Mrs. Brownrigg is hanged
in the first volume of the Newgate
Calendar. Upon the whole, we think
the apprentice is better off than the
Irishman : as Mrs. Brownrigg merely
starves and beats her, without any

attempt to prohibit her from going to
any shop, or praying at any church,
her apprentice might select ; and once
or twice, if we rememb^ rightly,
Brownrigg appears to have felt some
compassion. Not so Old England,
who indulges rather in a steady base-
ness, uniform brutality, and unrelent-
ing oppression.

Let us select from this entertaining
little book a short history of dear Ire-
land, such as even some profligate idle
member of the House of Commons,
voting as his master bids him, may
perchance throw his eye upon, and
reflect for a moment upon the iniquity
to which he lends his support.

For some centuries after the reign
of Henry II. the Iri^h were Idlled like
game, by persons qualified or unqu2^
lified. Whether dogs were used does
not appear quite certain, though it is
probable they were, spaniels as well as
pointers ; and that, after a regular
point by Basto, well backed by Ponto
and Caesar, Mr. 0*Donnel or Mr.
O'Leary bolted from the thicket, and
were bagged by the English sports-
man. With Henry IL came in tithes,
to which, in all probability, about one
million of lives may have been sacri-
ficed in Ireland. In the reign of
Edward L the Irish who were settled
near the English requested that the
benefit of the English laws might be
extended to them ; but the remon-
strance of the barons with the hesi-
tating king was in substance this : —
"You have made us a present of these
wild gentlemen, and we particularly
request that no measures may be
adopted to check us in that full range
of tyranny and oppression in which we
consider the value of such gift to con-
sist Ton might as well give us sheep,
and prevent us from shearing the wool,
or roasting the meat.** This reasoning
prevailed, and the Irish were kept to
their barbarism, and the barOns pre-
served their live stock.

"Bead 'Orange fMstion' (says Captain
Rock) here, and you have the wisdom of
cor rulers, at the end of near six centuries,
in statu quo, — The grand periodic year of
the stoics, at the close of which everything
was to begin again, and the same events to

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK.

53

be all reacted in the same order, is, on a
miniature scale, represented in the history
of the English Government tn Ireland —
eveiy succeeding century being but a new
revolution of the same follies, the same
crimes, and the same turbulence that dis-
graced the former. But *Vive rennemi!'
say I: whoever may suffer by such meap
sures, Captain Rock, at least, will prosper.
"And such was the result at the period
of which I am speaking. The rejection of a
petition, so humble and so reasonable, was
followed, as a matter of course, by one of
those diuring rebellions into which the
revenge of an insulted people naturally
breaks forth. The M'Car^, the O'Briens,
and all the other Macs and 0*8, who have
been kept on the alert hy similar causes
ever since, flew to arms under the command
of a chieftain of my family ; and, as the
proffered handle of the sword had been
rejected, made their inexorable masters at
least feel its «t^d."— (pp. 23—26.) •

Fifty years afterwards the same
request was renewed and refused. Up
again rose Mac and O, — a just and
necessary war ensued ; and e^ter the
usual murders, the usual chains were re-
placed upon the Irishiy. All Irishmen
were excluded from every species of
ofiice. It was high treason to marry
with the Irish blood, and highly penal
to receive the Irish into religious
houses. War was waged also against
their Thomas Moores, Samuel Rogerses,
and Walter Scotts, who went about
the country harping and singing against
English oppression. No such turbulent
guests were to be received. The plan
of making them poets-laureate, or con-
verting them to loyalty by pensions
of lOOZ. per annum, had not then
been thought of. They debarred the
Irish even from the pleasure of run-
ning away, and fixed them to the soil
like negroes.

** I have thus selected," says the historian
of Rock, " cursorily and at random, a few
features of the reigns preceding the B^or»
mation, in order to show what good use
was made of those three or four hundred
years in attaching the Irish people to their
English governors; and by what a gentle
course of alteratives thqr were prepared for
the inoculation of a new religion, which
was now about to be attempted upon them
by the same skilful and firiendly hands.

** Henry the Seventh appears to have
been the first monarch to whom it occurred

S 3

54

that matters were not managed exactly as
they ought in this part of his dominions;
and we find him— with a simplicity which
is still fresh and youthful among our rulers
—expressing his surprise that * his subjects
of this land should be so prone to faction
and rebellion, and that so little advantage
had been hitherto derived from the acqui-
sitions of his predecessors, notwithstanding
the fruitftdness and natiual advantages of
Ireland.'— Surprising, indeed, that a policy,
such as we have been describing, should not
have converted the whole country into a
perfect Atlantis of happiness — should not
have made it like the imaginary island of
Sir Thomas More, where ' tota insula velut
una familia est I '— most stubborn, truly,
and ungrateful, nmst that people be. upon
whom, up to the very hour in which I
write, such a long and unvarying course of
penal laws, confiscations, and Insurrection
Acts has been tried, without making them
in the least degree in love with their rulers.
*' Heloise tells her tutor Abelard, that the
correction which he inflicted upon her only
served toincrease theardour of her afTection
for him; but bayonets and hemp are no
such 'amoris stimuU,'—OD» more charac-
teristic anecdote of those times, and I have
done. At the battle of Knocktow, in the
reign of Heniy V II., when that remarkable
man, the Earl of S^Idare, assisted by the
great O'Neal and other Irish chiefs, gained
a victory over Clanricard of Connaught,
most important to the English Government,
Lord Gormanstown, after the battle, in the
first insolence of success, said, turning to
the Earl of Kildare, ' We have now slaugh-
tered our enemies, but, to complete the
good deed, we must proceed yet further,
and— cut the throats of those Irish of our
own party t ' * Who can wonder that the
Bock family were active in those times ? "
—(pp. sa-^.)

• Henry VIII. persisted in all these
outrages, and aggravated them by in-
sulting the prejudices of the people.
England is almost the only country in
the world (even at present) where there
is not some favourite religious spot,
wherjB absurd lies, little bits of cloth,
feathers, rusty nails, splinters, and
other invaluable relics, are treasured
np, and in defence of which the whole
population are willing to turn out and
perish as one man. Such was the
shrine of St. Kieran, the whole trea-
sures of which the satellites of that

* Leland gives this anecdote on the
authority of an Englishman.

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK.

corpulent tyrant turned out into the
street, pill^ed the sacred church of
Clonmacnoise, scattered the holy non-
sense of the priests to the winds,
and burnt the real and venerable cro-
sier of St. Patrick, fresh from the
silversmith's shop, and formed of the
most costly materials. Modern princes
change the uniform of regiments :
Henry changed the religion of king-
doms, and was determined that the
belief of the Irish should undergo a
radical and Protestant conversion.
With what success this attempt was
made, the present state of Ireland is
sufficient evidence.

"Be not dismayed," said Elizabeth,
on hearing that O'Neal meditated some
designs against her government ; ** tell
my friends, if he arise, it will turn to
their advantage — there will he estates
for those who want** Soon after this
prophetic speech, Munster was de-
stroyed by famine and the sword, and
near 600,000 acres forfeited to the
Crown, and distributed among En-
glishmen. Sir Walter Raleigh (the
virtuous and good) butchered the
garrison of Limerick in cold blood,
after Lord Deputy Gray had selected
700 to be hanged. There were, during
the reign of Elizabeth, three invasions
of Ireland by the Spaniards, produced
principally by the absurd measures of
this princess, for the reformation of its
religion. The Catholic clergy, in con-
sequence of these measures, abandoned
their cures, the churches fell to ruin,
and the people were left without any
means of instruction. Add to these
circumstances the murder of M*Mahon,
the imprisonment of M*Toole* and
O'Dogherty, and Ae kidnapping of
O'Donnel — all truly Anglo-Hibernian
proceedings. The execution of the
laws was rendered detestable and in-
tolerable hy the queen's officers of jus-

* There are not a few of the best and most
humane Englishmen of the present day,
who, when under the influence of faar or
anger, would think it no great crime to put
to death people whose names be^n with O
or Mac. The violent death of Smith, Green,
or Thomson, would throw the neighbour-
hood into convulsions, and the rMrular
forms would be adhered to — but little
would be really thought of the death of
anybody called aDogherty or OTCoole.

MEMOIBS OF CAPTAIN ROCK.

56

tice. The spirit raised by these trans-
aetions, besides innumerable smaller
insurrections, gave rise to the great
wars of Desmond and Hugh O'l^eal ;
which, after tbejr had worn out the
ablest generals, discomfited the choicest
troops, exhausted the treasure, and em-
barrassed the operations of Elizabeth,
were terminated bj the destruction of
these two ancient families, and by the
confiscation of more than half the ter-
ritorial surface of the island. The two
last years of O'Neal's wars cost Eliza-
beth 140,000t per annum, though the
whole revenue of England at that pe-
riod fell considerably short of 500,Q00iL
Essex, after the destruction of Norris,
led into Ireland an army of above
20,000 men, which was totally baffled
and destroyed by Tyrone within two
years of their landing. Such was the
importance of Irish rebellions two cen-
turies before the time in which we
live. Sir G. Carew attempted to assas-
sinate the Lugan Earl — Mountjoy
compelled the Irish rebels to massacre
each other. In the course of a few
months, 3000 men were starved to
death in Tyrone. Sir Arthur Chiches-
ter, Sir Richard Manson, and other
commanders, saw three children feed-
ing on the flesh of their dead mother.
Such were the golden days of good
Queen Bess !

By the rebellions of Dogherty in the
reign of James I. six northern coun-
ties were confiscated, amounting to
500,000 acres. In the same manner,
64,000 acres were confiscated in Ath-
lone. The whole of his confiscations
amount to nearly a million acres ; and
if Leland means plantation acres, they
constitute a twelfth of the whole king-
dom according to Newenham, and a
tenth according to Sir W. Petty. The
most shocking and scandalous action
in the reign of James, was his attack
upon the whole property of the pro-
vince of Connaught, which he would
have effected, 5 he had not been
bought ofi^ by a sum greater than he
hoped to g^in by his iniquity, besides
the luxury of confiscation. The Irish,
during the reign of James I., suffered
under the double evils of a licentious
soldiery, and a religions persecution. [

Charles I. took a bribe of 120,000^
from his Irish subjects, to grant them
what in those days were called Gractt^
but in these days would be denomi-
nated the Elements of Justice. The
money was paid, but the graces
were never granted. One of these
graces is curious enough : ** That the
clergy were not to be permitted to
keep henceforward any private pri-
sons of their own, but delinquents
were to be committed to the public
jails.*' The idea of a rector, with his
own private jail full of dissenters, is
the most ludicrous piece of tyranny
we ever heard of. The troops in the
beginning of Charles's reign were sup-
ported by the weekly fines levied upon
the Catholics for non-attendance upon
established worship. The Archbishop
of Dublin went himself, at the head of
a file of musketeers, to disperse a
Catholic congregation in Dublin —
which object he effected, after a con-
siderable skirmish with the priests.
"The favourite object*' (says Dr.
Iceland, a Protestant clergyman, and
dignitary of the Irish church) " of the
Irish Government and the English
Parliament, was the utter extermituUion
of all the Catholic inhabitants of Ire-
land." The great rebellion took place
in this reign, and Ireland was one
scene of blood and cruelty and confis-
cation.

Cromwell began his career in Ire-
land by massacring for five days the
garrison of Drogheda, to whom quar-
ter had been promised* Two millions
and a half of acres were confiscated.
Whole towns were put up in lots, and
sold. The Catholics were banished
from three-fourths of the kinp^dom,
and confined to Connaught. After a
certain day, every Catholic found out
of Connaught was to be punished with
death. Fleetwood complains peevishly
** that the people do not transport rea-
dffy,** — but adds, ** t( is dovbdess a
work in which the Lord will appear"
Ten thousand Irish were sent as re-
cruits to the Spianish army.

"Such was CromwtXFs way of settling
the aflkirs of Ireland--and if a nation is to
be ruined, this method is, perhaps, as good
as any. It is, at lesst^ morehumone than the

B 4

56

MEMOIRS OP CAPTAIN ROCK.

slow lingering process of exclusion, disap-
pointment, and degradation, lyy w)iich their
hearts are woni out under mora specious
forms of tiyranny ; and that talent of des-
patch which Molitoe attributes to one of
bis physicians, is no ordinaiy merit in a
practitioner like Cromwell:— 'Cost un
bomme exp^tif, qui aime ik d6pteher ses
malades ; et quand on a ik mourir, oela se
ftit avec lui le plus yite du monde.' A oer-
tain militaiy ]>uke, who complains that
Ireland is but half-conquered, would, no
doubt, upon an emergency, tiy bis band in
the same line of practice, and, like that
' stem hero,' MirmUlo, in the Dispensary,

'While others meanly take whole months
to slay, •

Despatch the grateftil patient in a day I '

''Among other amiable enactments against
the Catholics at this period, the price of five
pounds was set on the head of a Bomish
priest-— being exactly the same sum offered
by the same l^slators for the head of a
wolf. The Athenians, we are told, encou-
raged the destruction of wolves by a similar
reward (five draclunas) ; but it does not
appear that these heathens bought up the
beads of priests at the same rate— such zeal
in the cause of religion being reserved for
times of Christianity and Protestantism.*'—
(pp. 97—99.)

Nothing can show more strongly the
light in which the Irish were held by
Cromwell, than the correspondence
with Henry Cromwell, respecting the
peopling of Jamaica from Ireland.
Secretary Thurloe sends to Henry, the
Lord Depaty in Ireland, to inform
him, that *' a stock of Irish girls, and
Irish young men, are wanting for the
peopling of Jamaica.'* The answer of
Henry Cromwell is as follows: — " Con-
cerning the supply of young men, al-
though we must nse force in taking
them up, yet it being so miteh for their
own good, and likely to be of so great
advantage to the public, it is not the
least doubted but that you may have
such a number of them as you may
think fit to make use of on this ac-
count.

** I shall not need repeat anything
respecting the girls, not doubting to
answer your expectations to the full in
that; and I think it might be of like
advantage to your affairs there, and
ours here, if you should think fit to
send 1500 or 22000 boys to the place

above mentioned. We can weU spare
them; and who knows but that it may
be the means of making them English-
men, I mean rather Christians? As
for the girls, I suppose you will make
provisions of clothes, and other accom-
modations for them." Upon this,
Thurloe informs Henry Cromwell that
the council have roted 4000 ghrU, and
€u many hoyty to g^ to Jamaica.

Every Catholic priest found in Ire-
land was hanged, and five pounds paid
to the informer.

'* About the years 1652 and 1653,"
says Colonel Lawrence, in his Interests
of Ireland, ** the plague and famine
had so swept away whole counties,
that a man might travel twenty or
thirty miles and not see « living crea-
ture, either man or beast, or bird,
they being all dead, or had quitted
those desolate places. Oar soldiers
would tell storied of the places where
they saw smoke — it was so rare to see
either smoke by day, or fire or candle
by night.*' In this manner did the
Irish live and die under Cromwell, snf-
fering by the sword, famine, pestilence,
and persecution, beholding the confis-
cation of a kingdom and the banish-
ment of a race. *' So that there perish-
ed " (says Sir W. Petty) « in the year
1641, 650^000 human beings whose
blood somebody must atone for to God
and the King I r*

In the reign of Charles IL, by the
Act of Settlement, four millions and
a half of acres were for ever taken
from the Irish. ** This country," says
the Earl of Essex, Lord Lieutenant
in 1675, "has been perpetually rent
and torn, since his Majesty's restoration.
I can compare it to nothing better than
the flinging the reward on the death of
a deer among the pack of hounds —
where every one pulls and tears where
he can for himself." All wool gtown
in Ireland was, by Act of Parliament,
compelled to be sold to England; and
Irish cattle were excluded from Eng-
land. The English, however, were
pleased to accept 30,000 head of cattle,
sent as a gift from Ireland to the
sufierers in the great fire! — and the
first day of the ^ssions, after this act
of munificence, the Parliament passed

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK.

57

fresh acts of exclusion against the pro-
ductions of that countrjr.

" Among the many anomalous situations
in which the Irish have been placed, by
those ' marriage vows» false as dicers' oaths,'
which bind their country to England, the
* dilemma in which they found themaelyes at
the devolution was not the least perplexing
or crueL* If they were loyal to the King
de jure, they were hanged by the King de
facto; and if they escaped with life firom
the King de facto, it was but to be plun-
dered and proscribed by the King de jure
afterwards.

'Hao gener atque eoeer coeant meroede
suorum.'— YiKGiL.

'In a manner so summaiy, prompt, and
high-mettled,
Twixt father and son-in-law matters were
settled.'

"In fiact, most of the outlawries in Ire-
land were for treason committed the very
day on which the Prince and Princess of
Orange accepted the crown in the Banquet-
ing-house ; though the news of this event
could not possibly have reached the other
side of the Channel on the same day, and
the Lord-Lieutenant of King James, with
an anny to enforce obedience, was at that
time in actual i>06ses8ion of the govern*
moit,— so little was common sense con-
sulted, or the mere decency of forms
observed, by that rapacious spirit, which
nothing less than the confiscation of the
whole island could satisiy ;'and which hav-
ing, in the reign of James I. and at the
Bestoration, despoiled the natives of no less
than ten million six hundred and thirty-six
thousand eight himdred and thirty-seven
acres, now added to its plunder one million
sixty thousand seven hundred and ninety-
two acres more, being the amount, altoge-
ther (according to Lord Clare's calculation),
of the whole superficial contents of the
island I

** Thus, not only had all Ireland suffered
confiscation in the course of tins century,
but no inconsiderable portion of it had been

* "Among the persons most puzzled and
perplexed by the two opposite Koyal claims
on their alliance, were the clergymen of
tin Established Church ; who having first
prayed for King James, as their lawful
sovereign, as soon as William was pro-
claimea tool: to praying tor him; but again,
on the success of the Jitcobite forces in the
north, very prudently pra;^ed for King
James once more, tUl nie arrival of Schom-
berg, when, as far as his quarters reached,
they returned to praying for King William
andn."

twice and even thrice confiscated. Well
might Lord Clare say, ' that the situation
of the Irish nation, at the Bevolution,
stands unparalleled in the history of the
inhabited world.' "— (pp. 111—113.)

By the Articles of Limerick, the
Irish were promised the free exercise
of their religion ; but from that period
till the year 1788, every year produced
some fresh penalty against that religion
— some liberty was abridged, some
right impaired, or some suffering in-
creased. By acts in King William's
reign, they were prevented from being
solicitors. No Catholic was allowed to
marry a Protestant ; and any Catholic
who sent a son to Catholic countries
for education was to forfeit all his
lands. In the reign of Queen Anne,
any son of a Catholic who chose to
turn Protestant got possession of the .
father's estate. No Papist was allowed
to purchase freehold property, or to
take a lease for more than thirty years.
If a Protestant dies intestate, the estate
is to go to the next Protestant heir,
though all to the tenth generation
should be Catholic. In the same
manner, if a Catholic dies intestate,
his estate is to go to the next Protes«
tant No Papist is to dwell in Lime-
rick or Galway. No Papist to take
an annuity for life. The widow of a
Papist turning Protestant to have a
portion of the chattels of deceased,
in spite of any will. Every Papist
teaching schools to be presented as a
regular Popish convict. Prices of
catching Catholic priests from 509. to
10/., according to rank. Papists are
to answer all questions respecting other
Papists, or to be committed to jail for
twelve months. No trust to be under-
taken for Papists. No Papists to be
on Grand Juries. Some notion may
be formed of the spirit of those times,
from an order of the House of Com-
mons, '*that the Sergeant-at-Arms
should take into custody all Papists that
should presume to come into the gal"
lery ! ** ( Commons' Joumalj vol. iii. fol.
976.) During this reign, the English
Parliament legislated as absolutely for
Ireland as they do now for Rutland-
shire — an evil not to be complained
of, if they had done it as justly. lo

58

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN BOCK.

the reign of George L, the horses of
Papists were seized for the militia, and
rode hy Protestants ; towards which
the Catholics paid doable, and were
compelled to find Protestant substi-
tutes. They were prohibited from
voting at vestries, or being high or
petty constables. An act of the En-
glish Parliament in this reign opens
SB follows : — *' Whereas attempts have
been lately made to shake off the sub-
jection of Ireland to the Imperial
Crown of these realms, be it enacted/'
&c. &c- In the reign of Greorge II.
four-sixths of the population were cut
off from the right of voting at elections,
by the necessity under which thej were
placed of taking the oath of supre-
macy. Barristers and solicitors marry-
ing Catholics are exposed to all the
penalties of Catholics. Persons robbed
by privateers during a war with a
Catholic State, are to be indemnified
by a levy on the Catholic inhabitants
of the neighbourhood. All marriages
between Catholics and Protestants are
annulled. All Popish priests celebra-
ting them are to be hanged. ** This
system " (says Arthur Young) ** has
no other tendency than that of driving
out of the kingdom all the personcd
wealth of the Catholics, and extin-
guishing their industry within it ! and
tiie face of the country, every object
which presents itself to travellers, tells
him how effectually this has been
done.** — (YbMn^** Tour in Ireland,
Vol. IL p. 48.)

Such is the history of Ireland — for
we are now at our own times; and the
only remaining question is» whether
the system of improvement and con-
ciliation begun in the reign of Greorge
IIL shall be pursued, and the remain-
ing incapacities of the Catholics re-
moved, or all these concessions be made
insignificant by an adherence to that
spirit of proscription which they pro-
fessed to abolish ? Looking to the
sense and reason of the thing, and to
the ordinary working of humanity and
justice, when assisted, as they are here,
by self-iuterest and worldly policy, it
might seem absurd to doubt of the
result. But looking to the facts and
the persons by whidi We are now sur-

rounded, we are constrained to say,
that we greatly fear that these incapa-
cities never will be removed, till they
are removed by fear? What else, in-
deed, can we expect when we see them
opposed by such enlightened men as
Mr. Peel — faintly assisted by men of
such admirable genius as Mr. Canning,

— when Royal Dukes consider it as a
compliment to the memory of thehr
father to continue this miserable system
of bigotry and exclusion, — when men
act ignominiously and contemptibly on
this question, who do so on no other
question, — when almost the only per*
sons zealously opposed to this general
baseness and fatuity are a few Whigs
and Reviewers, or here and there a
virtuous poet like Mr. Moore ? We
repeat again, that the measure never
will be effected but by fear. In the
midst of one of our just and necessary
wars, the Irish Catholics will compel
this country to grant them a great deal
more than they at present require, or
even contempUte. We re^et most
severely the protraction of the disease,

— and the danger of the remedy; —
but in this way it is that human affairs
are carried on !

We are sorry we have nothing for
which to praise Administration on the
subject of the Catholic question — but,
it is but justice to say» that they have
been very zealous and active in detect-
ing fiscal abuses in Ireland, in improv-
ing mercantile regulations, and in
detecting Irish jobs. The commission
on which Mr. Wallace presided has
been of the greatest possible utility,
and does infinite credit to the Govern-
ment The name of Mr. Wallace, in
any commission, has now become a
pledge to the public that there is a real
intention to investigate and correct
abuse. He stands in the singular -pre-
dicament of being equally trusted by
the rulers and the ruled. It is a new
era in GK>vernment, when such men
are called into action ; and, if there
were not proclaimed and fatal limits to
that ministerial liberality —which, so
far as it goes, we welcome without a
grudge, and praise without a sneer —
we might yet hope that, for the sake
of mere consistency, they might bo

BENTHAiyrS BOOK OF FALLACIES.

5»

led to falsify our forebodings. Bat
alas ! there are motives more imme-
diate, and therefore irresistible ; and
the time is not yet come, when it will
be believed easier to govern Ireiand bv
the love of the many than by the
power of the few — when the paltry
and dangerons machinery of bigoted
faction and prostituted patronage may
be dispensed with, and the vessel of
the state be propelled by the natural
current of popular interests and the
breath of popular applause. In the
meantime, we cannot resist the temp«
tation of gracing our conclusion with
the following beautiful passage, in
which the anthor alludes to the hopes
that were raised at another great era
of partial concession and liberality —
that of the revolution of 1782, — when,
also, benefits were conferred which
proved abortiye, because they were
incomplete — and balm poured into
the wound, where the envenomed shaft
was yet left to rankle.

"And here/' says the gallant Captain
Bock,— "as the free confession of weak-
nesses constitutes the chief charm and use
of biography— I will candidly own that the
dawn of prosperity and concord, whidi I
now saw breaking over the fortunes of my
country, so dazzled and deceived my youth-
Ail eyes, and so unsettled every hereditary
notion of what I owed to my name and
fiunily, that — shall I confess it?— I even
hailed with pleasure the prospects of peace
and freedom that seemed opening around
me ; nay, was ready, in the boyish enthusi-
asm of the moment, to sacrifice all my own
pexsonal interests in all ftiture riots and
rebellions, to the one bright, seducing ob-
ject of my country's liberty and repose.

"When I contemplated such a man as
the venerable Cfaarlemont, whose nobility
was to the people like a fort over a valley-
elevated above them solely for their defence ;
who introduced the polish of the courtier
into the camp of the ft-eeman, and served
his countiy with all that pure, Platonic
devotion, which a true knight in the time
of chivalry profTered to his mistress ;— when
I Ustened to the eloquence of Grattan, the
very music of Preedom — her first, fresh
matin song, after a long night of slavery,
degradation, and sorrow ;— when I saw the
bright offerings which he brought to the
shrine of his oountiy,— wisdom, genius,
courage, and patience, invigorated and em-
bellished by ail those social and domestic

virtues, without which the loftiest talenta
stand isolated in the moral waste around
them, like the piUan of Palmyra towering
in a wilderness I— when I refiected on all
this, it not only disheartened me for the
mission of discord which I had undertaken,
but made me secretly hope that it might be
rendered unneoessary; and that a oountiy,
which could produce such men and achiere
such a revolution, might yet — in spite of
the joint efforts of the Qovemment and
my fitmily — take her rank in the sode of
nations, and be fiappy I

" My fitther, however, who saw the mo-
mentary daazle by which I was affected,
soon draw me out of this fl^lse light of hope
in which I lay basking, and set the truth
before me in a way but too convincing and
ominoua. ' Be not deceived, boy,' he would
say, 'by the lUlacious appearances before
you. Eminently great and good as is the
man to whom Lreland owes tins short era
of glory, our work, believe me, wiU last
longer than his. We have a power on our
side that '*wiU not wiliingty let us die;"
and, long after Grattan shall have disap-
peared from earth,— like that arrow shot
into the clouds by Aloestes — effecting
nothing, but leaving a long train of light
behind him, the fiimily of the Rocks will
continue to fiourish in all their native
glory, upheld by the ever-watchftd care of
the Legislature, and fostered hy that
" nnrsingmother of Liberty," the Chundh' "

BENTHAM ON FALLACIES.
(E. Beyibw, 1825.)

Ths Book of FaUaeies: from Unftnishtd
PaperstfJeremf BetUham, By a Friend.
London. J. and H. L. Hunt. 1824.

There are a vast number of absurd
and mischievous fallacies, which pass
readily in the world for sense and
virtue, while in truth they tend only
to fortify error and encourage crime*
Mr. Bentham has enumerated the
most conspicuous of these in the book
before us.

Whether it be necessary there should
be a middleman between the cultivator
and the possessor, learned economists
have doubted; but neither gods, men,
nor booksellers, can doubt the neces-
sity of a middleman between Mr.
Bentham and the public. Mr. Ben-
tham is long ; Mr. Bentham is occa-

60

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

sionally involved and obscure; Mr.
Bentbam invents new and alarming
expressions ; Mr. Bentbam loves divi-
sion and sub- division — and be loves
metbod itself, more tban its conse-
quences. Tbose only, tberefore, wbo
know bis originality, bis knowledge,
bis vigour, and bis boldness, will recur
to tbe works tbemselves. Tbe great
mass of readers will not pnrcbase im-
provement at so dear a rate ; but will
cboose ratber to become acquainted
witb Mr. Bentbam tbrough tbe me-
dium of Reviews — after that eminent
pbilosopber ba»been washed, trimmed,
shaved, and forced into clean linen.
One great use of a Review, indeed, is
to make men wise in ten pages; wbo
bave no appetite for a hundred pages ;
to condense nourishment, to work with
pulp and essence, and to guard the
stomach from idle burden and unmean-
ing bulk. For half a page, sometimes
for a whole page, Mr. Bentbam \hntes
with a power which few can equal ;
and by selecting and omitting, an ad-
mirable style may be formed from the
text. Using this liberty, we shall en-
deavour to give an account of Mr.
Bentham's doctrines, for tbe most part
in his own words. Wherever any ex-
pression is particularly happy, let it
be considered to be Mr. Bentham's : —
the dnlness we take to ourselves.

Our Wise Ancestors— the Wisdom of
our Ancestors — the Wisdom of Ages —
venerable Antiquity — Wisdom of Old
Times. — This mischievous and absurd
fallacy springs from the grossest per-
version of tbe meaning of words. Ex-
perience is certainly tbe mother of
wisdom, and the old have, of course,
a greater experience tban the young ;
but the question is, who are the old?
and wbo are the young? Of indivi-
duals living at the same period, the
oldest has, of course, the greatest ex-
perience ; but among generations of
men the reverse of this is true. Those
wbo come first (our ancestors) are the
young people, and have the least ex-
perience. We have added to their
experience tbe experience of many
centuries ; and, therefore, as far as
experience goes, are wiser, and more
capable of forming on opinion than

they were. The real feeling should bei
not, can we be so presumptuous as to
put our opinions in opposition to those
of our ancestors ? but can such young,
ignorant, and inexperienced persons,
as our ancestors necessarily were, be
expected to bave understood a sub-
ject as well as tbose who bave seen so
much more, lived so much longer, and
enjoyed the experience of so m^ny
centuries ? All this cant, then, about
our ancestors is merely an abuse of
words, by transferring phrases true of
contemporary men to succeeding ages.
Whereas (as we bave before observed)
of living men tbe oldest has, ccBteris
paribus, the most experience ; of gene-
rations, the oldest has, cateris paribus,
the least experience. Our ancestors,
up to the Conquest, were children in
arms ; chubby boys in tbe time of
Edward I.; striplings under Eliza-
beth ;• men in the reign of Queen
Anne ; and toe only are the white-
bearded, silver-headed ancients, who
have treasured up, and are prepared to
profit by, all the experience which hu-
man life can supply. We are not dis-
puting with our ancestors the palm of
talent, in which they may or may not
be our superiors, but the palm of ex-
perience, in which it is utterly im-
possible they can be our superiors.
And yet, whenever the Chancellor
comes forward to protect some abase,
or to oppose some plan which has
the increase of human happiness for
its object, his first appeal is always to
the wisdom of our ancestors ; and he
himself, and many noble lords wbo
vote with him, are, to this hour,
persuaded that all alterations and
amendments on their devices are an un-
blushing controversy between youth-
ful temerity and mature experience !—
and so, in truth, they are, — only that
much -loved magistrate mistakes tbe
young for tbe old, and tbe old for the
young — and is guilty of that very
sin against experience which he attri-
butes to tbe lovers of innovation.

We cannot, of coarse, be supposed
to maintain that our ancestors wanted
wisdom, or that they were necessarily
mistaken in their institutions, because
their means of information were more

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

61

limited than ours. But we do confi-
dently maintain that when we find it
expedient to change anything which
oar ancestors have enacted, we . are
the experienced persons, and not they.
The quantity of talent is always vary-
ing in any great nation. To say that
we are more or less able than onr an-
cestors, is an assertion that requires to
be explained. All the able men of all
ages, who have ever lived in England,
probably possessed, if taken altogether,
more intellect than all the able men now
in England can boast of. But if autho-
rity must be resorted to rather than
reason, the question is. What was the
wisdom of that single age which enacted
the law, compared with the wisdom of
the age which proposes to alter it ? What
are the eminent men of one and the
other period ? If you say that our
ancestors were wiser than us, mention
your date and year. If the splendour
of names is equal, are the circum-
stances the same ? If the circum-
stances are the same, we have a supe-
riority of experience, of which the
difference between the two periods is
the measure. It is necessary to insist
upon this ; for upon sacks of wool,
and on benches forensic, sit grave
men, and agricolous persons' in the
Commons, crying out ** Ancestors,
Ancestors I kodie turn I Saxons,
Danes, save us ! Fiddlefrig, help us !
Howel, Ethelwolf, protect us ! " — Any
cover for nonsense — any veil for
trash — any pretext for repelling the
innovations of conscience and of duty !

" So long as they keep to vague generali-
ties—so long as the two objects of compari-
son are each of them taken in the lump —
wise ancestors in one lump, ignorant and
foolish mob of modem times in the other—
the weakness of the ftdlacy may escape
detection. But let them assign for the
period of 8ui)erior wisdom any determinate
period whatsoever, not only will the ground-
lessness of the notion be apparent (class
being compared with class in that period
and the present one), but, unless the ante-
cedent period be comparatively speaking a
very modem one, so wide will be the dispa-
rity, and to such an amount in fitvour of
modem times, that, in comparison of the
lowest class of the people in modem times,
(always supposing them proficients in the

art of reading, and their ^proScieney em-
ployed in the reading of newspapers,) the
very highest and best informed cls«s of
these wise ancestors will turn out to be
grossly ignorant.

'* lUce, for example, any year in the reign
of Henry the Eighth, from 160d to 154A. At
that time the House of Lords would pro-
bably have been in poaseesion of by ftr the
larger proportion of what little instruction
the age afforded : in the House of Lords,
among the iBity, it might even then be a
question whether, without exception, their
lordships were all of them able so much as
to read. But even supposing them all in
the ftiUest possession of that useftd art,
political science being the science in ques-
tion, what instruction on the subject could
they meet with at that time of day?

** On no one branch of legislation was any
book extant firom which, with regard to the
drcumstanoes of the then present times,
any useful instruction could be derived:
distributive law, penal law, international
law, political economy, so tar from existing
as sciences, had scarcely obtained a name :
in all those departments, under the head of
quid faciendum, a mere blank : the whole
literature of the age consisted of a meagre
chronicle or two, containing short memo-
randums of the usual occurrences of war
and peace, battles, sieges, executions, revels,
deaths, births, processions, cei^emonies, and
other external events ; but with scarce a
speech or an Incident that could enter into
the composition of any such work as a his-
tory of the human mind— with scarce an
attempt at investigation into causes, cha-
racters, or the state of the people at large.
Even when at last, little by little, a scrap or
two of political instruction came to be
obtainable, the proportion of error and
mischievous doctrine mixed up with it was
so great, that whether a bhmk unfilled
might not have been less prejudicial than a
blank thus filled, may reasonably be matter
of doubt.

** If we come down to the reign of James
the Eirst, we shall find that Solomon of his
time, eminently eloquent as well as learned,
not only among crowned but among un-
crowned heads, marking out for prohibition
and punishment the practices of devils and
witches, and without any the slightest
objection on the part of the great characters
of that day in their high situations, con-
signing men to death and torment for the
misfortune of not being so well acquainted
as he was with the composition of the (Sod-
head.

*' Under the name of Exorcism the Ca-
tholic htuigy contains a form of procedure
I for driving out devils r-even with the help

62

BENTHAirS BOOK OF FALLACIES.

of thii inrtnunent, the opentioD oamiot be
perfonned with the desired suooees, but hy
an operator qualifled by holy orders for the
working of this as well as so many other
wonders. In our days, and in our country,
the same object is attained, and b^ond
comparison more efTectually, by so cheap an
instrument as a common newspaper : berf%>re
this taUsman, not only devils, but ghosts,
vampires, witches, and all their kindred
tribes, are driven out of the land, never to
return again 1 The touch of holy water is
not so intolerable to them as the bare smell
of printers' ink."— (pp. 74—77.)

Fallacy of irrevocable Laws. *- A
law, says Mr. Bentham (no matter to
what effect), is proposed to a legisla-
tive assembly, who are called npon to
reject it, upon the single ground, that
by those who in some former period
exercised the same powei, a regular
tion was made, having for its object to
preclude for ever, or to the end of an
unexpired period, all succeeding legis*
lators from enacting a law to any sach
effect as that now proposed.

Now it appears quite evident that,
at every, period of time, every Legisla-
ture must be endowed with all those
powers which the exigency of the times
may require : and any attempt to in-
fringe on this power is inadmissible
and absurd. The sovereign power, at
any one period, can only form a blind
guess at the measures which may be
necessary for any future period : but
by this principle of immutable laws,
the government is transferred from
those who are necessarily the best
judges of what they want, to others
who can know little or nothing about
the matter. The thirteenth century
decides for the fourteenth. The four-
teenth makes laws for the fifteenth.
The fifteenth hermetically seals up the
sixteenth, which tyrannises over the
seventeenth, which again tells the
eighteenth how it is to act, under
circumstances which cannot be fore-
seen, and how it is to conduct itself
in exigencies which no human wit can
anticipate.

" Men who have a century more of expe-
rience to ground their Judgments on, sur-
render their intellect to men who had a
oentuiy less experience, and wbo, unless
that deficiency orastitutes a daim, have no

claim to preferenoe. If the prior generation
were, in respect of inteUectual qualification,
eveae so much superiw to the subsequent
generation— if it understood so much better
than the subsequent generation itself the
interest of that subsequent generation—
could it have been in an equal degree
anxious to promote that interest, and con-
sequently equally attentive to those facts
with which, though in order to form a
judgment it oi^ht to have been, it is im-
possible that it should have been aoquunt-
ed f In a word, will its love for that subse-
quent generation be quite so great as that
same generation's love for itself?

" Not even hens, after a moment's delibe-
rate reflection, wiU the assertion be in the
affirmative. And yet it is their prodigious
anxiety for the welftre of their posterity
that produces the propensity of these sages
to tie up the hands of this same posterity
for evermore — to act as guardians to its
perpetual and* incurable weakness, and
take its conduct for ever out of its own
hands.

** If it be right that the conduct; of the
19th oentuiy should be determined not by
its own judgment, but by that of the 18th,
it will be equally right that the conduct of
the 20th century should be deto^mined, not
by its own judgment, but by that of the
19th. And if the same principle were still
pursued, what at length would be the con-
sequence?— that in process of time the
practice of legislation would be at an end.
The conduct and fate of all men would be
determined by those who neither knew nor
cared anything about the matter ; and the
aggregate body of the Living would remain
for ever in subjection to an inexorable
tyranny, exercised, as it were, by the aggre-
gate body of the Dead."— (pp. 84-86.)

The despotism, as Mr. Bentham
well observes, of Nero or Caligula,
would be more tolerable than an trre-
vocable law. l*he despot, through fear
or favour, or in a lucid interval, might
relent ; but how are the Parliament,
who made the Scotch Union, for ex-
ample, to be awakened from that dust
in which they repose — the jobber and
the patriot, the speaker and the door-
keeper, the silent voters and the men of
rich allusions — Cannings and cultiva-
tors. Barings and beggars — making
irrevocable laws for men who toss
their remains about with spades, and
use the relics of these legislators, to
give breadth to broccoli, and to aid
the vernal eruption of asparagus ?

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

63

If tbe law be good, it will sapport
itself; if bad, it should not be sup-
ported bj the irrevocable theory, which
is never resorted to but as the veil of
abases. All living men must possess
the sapreme power over their own
happiness at every particular period.
To suppose that there is anything
which a whole nation cannot do,
which they deem to be essential to
their happiness, and that they cannot
do it, because another generation, long
ago dead and gone, said it mast not
be done, is mere nonsense. While you
are captain of the vessel, do what you
please ; bat the moment you quit the
ship, I become as omnipotent as you.
You may leave me as much advice as
you please, but you cannot leave me
commands; though, in fact, this is the
only meaning which can be applied
to what are called irrevocable laws.
It appeared to the Legislature for the
time being to be of immense import-
ance to make such and such ^ law.
Great good was gained or great evil
avoided by enacting it. Pause before
you alter an institution which has
been deemed to be of so much im-
portance. This is prudence and com-
mon sense ; the rest is the exaggera-
tion of fools, or the artifice of knaves,
who eat up fools. What endless non-
sense has been talked of our naviga-
tion laws ! What wealth has been
sacrificed to either before they were
repealed I How impossible it appeared
to Noodledom to repeal them ! They
were considered of the irrevocable class
— a kind of law over which the dead
only were omnipotent, and the living
had no power. Frost, it is trae, can-
not be put off by act of Parliament,
nor can Spring bie accelerated by any
majority of both Houses. It is, how-
ever, quite a mistake to suppose that
any alteration of any of the Articles
of Union is as much out of the jaris-
diction of Parliament as these me-
teorological changes. In every year,
and every day of Siat year, L'ving men
have a right to make their own laws,
and manage their own affairs ; to break
through the tyranny of the ante-spi-
rants — the people who breathed be-
fore them, and to do what they please

for themselves. Sach supreme power
cannot indeed be well exercised by
the people at large ; it must be exer-
cised therefore by the delegates, or
Parliament, whom the people choose ;
and such Parliament, disregarding the
superstitious reverence for irrevocable
laws, can have no other criterion of
wrong and right than that of public
utility.

When a law is considered as immu-
table; and the immutable law happens
at the same time to be too foolish
and mischievous to be endured, instead
of being repealed, it is clandestinely
evaded, or openly violated ; and thus
the aathority of all law is weakened.

Where a- nation has been ances-
torially bound by foolish and impro-
vident treaties, ample notice must be
given of their termination. Where
the state has made ill-advised grants,
or rash bargains with individuals, it is
necessary to grant pfoper compensa-
tion. The most di£5cult case, certainly,
is that of the union of nations, where a
smaller number of the weaker nation
is admitted into the larger senate of
the greater nation, and will be over-*
powered if the question come to a
vote ; but the lesser nation must run
this risk : it is not probable that any
violation of articles will take place till
they are absolutely called for by ex-
treme necessity. Bht let the danger
be what it may, no danger is so great,
no supposition so foolish, as to con-
sider any human law as irrevocable.
The shifting attitude of haman affairs
would often render such a condition
an intolerable evil to all parties. The
absurd jealousy of our countrymen at
the Union secured heritable jurisdic-
tion to the owners; nine and thirty years
afterwards they were abolished in the
very teeth of the Act of . Union, and
to the evident promotion of the public
good. '

Continuity of a Law hy Oath. —
The Sovereign of England at his
Coronation takes an oath to maintain
the laws of God, the true profession of
the Gospel, and the Protestant religion
as established by law, and to preserve
to the Bishopt and Clergy of this
realm the rights and privileges which by

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FAU^ACIESu

64

law appertain to them, and to presenre
invioliae the doctrine, discipline, wor-
ship, and government of the Chorch.
It has heen snggested that by this
oath the ELing stands precluded from
granting those indulgences to the Irish
Catholics which are incladed in the
bill for their emancipation. The true
meaning of these provisions is, of
course, to be decided, if doubtfnl, bj
the same legislative authority which
enacted them. But a different notion it
seems is now afloat The King for
the time being (we are putting an
imaginary case) diinks as an indivi-*
dual, that he is not maintaining the
doctrine, discipline, and rights of the
Church of England, if ho grant any
extension of civil rights to those who
are not members of that Church, that
he is violating his oath by so doing.
This oath, then, according to this rea-
soning, la the great palladium of the
Church. As long as it remains invio-
late the Church is safe. How then ca»
any monarch who has taken it ever
consent to repeal it ? How can he,
consistently with his oath for the pre-
servation of the privileges of the
Church, contribute his part to throw
down so strong a bulwark as he deems
Uiis oath to be ? The oath, then, can-
not be altered. It must remain under
all circumstances of society the same.
The King, who has taken it, is bound
to continue it, and to refuse his sanction
to any bill for its future alteration ;
because it prevents him, and he must
needs think, will prevent others, from
granting dangerous immunities to the
enemies of the Church.

Here, then, is an irrevocable law — a
piece of absurd tyranny exercised by
the rulers of Queen Anne's time upon
the government of 1825 — a certain
art of potting and preserving a king-
dom, in one shape, attitude and flavour
-» and in this way it is thtit an institu-
tion appears like old Ladies' Sweet-
meats and made Wines — Apricot
Jam, 1822— Currant Wine, 1819 -—
Court of Chancery, 1427 — Penal Laws
against Catholics, 1676. The differ-
ence is, that the Ancient Woman is a
better judge of mou]^y commodities
than the Uberal part of his Majesty's

Ministers. The potting lady goes snif-
fing about, and admitting light and
air to prevent the progress of decay ;
while to him of the Woolsack, all
seems doubly dear in proportion as it
is antiquated, worthless, and unusable.
It ought not to be in the power of the
Sovereign to tie up his own hands,
much less the hands of his successors.
If the Sovereign is to oppose his
own opinion to that of the two other
branches of the Legislature, and him-
self to decide what he considers to
be for the benefit of the Protestant
Church, and what not, a king who has
spent his whole life in the frivolous
occupation of a court, may, by perver-
sion of understanding, conceive mea-
sures most salutary to the Church to
be most pernicious ; and persevering
obstidately in his own error, may frtis-
trate the wisdom of his Parliament,
and perpetuate the most inconceivable
folly ! If Henry YHI. had argued in
this Ihanner, we should have had no
Reformation. If Greorge IIL had
always argued in this manner, the
Catholic Code would never have been
relaxed. And thus, a king, however
incapable of forming an opinion upon
serious subjects, has nothing to do but
to pronounce the word Conscience, and
the whole power of the country is at
his feet.

Can there be greater absurdity than
to say that a man is acting con-
trary to his conscience who surrenders
his opinion upon any subject to those
who must understand the subject bet-
ter than himself ? I think my ward
has a claim to the estate ; but the best
lawyers tell me he has none. I think my
son capable of undergoing the fatigues
of a military life ; but the best physi-
cians say he is much too weak. My
Parliament say this measure will do
the Church no harm ; but I think it
very pemieious to the Church. Am I
acting contrary to my conscience be-
cause I apply much higher intellectual
powers than my own to the investiga-
tion and protection of these high in-
terests ?

"Aooording to the form in which it is
conceived, any such engaisement is in effect

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

65

either a check or a licence :— a licence under
the appearance of a check, and for that
veiy reason but the more efficiently opera-
tive.

** Chains to the man in powOT? Yes:— but
only such as he figures with on the sta^ :
to the spectators as imi)Osing, to himself as
light as possible. Modelled by the wearer
to suit his own purposes, they serve to
rattle^ but not to restrain.

''Suppose a King of Great Britun and
Ireland to have expressed his fixed deter-
mination, in the event of any proposed law
being tendered to him for his assent, to
refuse such assent, and this not on the per-
suasion that the law would not be ' for the
utility of the subjects,* but that by his
coronation oath he stands precluded fh>m
so doing: — the course proper to be taken
loj parliament, the course pointed out by
principle and precedent, would be, a vote of
abdication : — a vote declaring the king to
have abdicated his royal authority, and
that, as in case of death or incurable men-
tal dearangement, now is the time for the
person next in succession to take his place.
" In the celebrated case in which a vote
to this effect was actually passed, the decla-
ration of abdication was in lawyers' language
-a fiction — in plain truth a falsehood — and
that fialsehood a mockeiy ; not a particle of
his power was it the wish of James to
abdicate, to part with ; but to increase it to
a maximum was the manifest object of all
his efforts. But in the case here supposed,
with respect to a part, and that a principal
part, of the royal authority, the will and
purpose to abdicate is actually declared:
and this, being such a' port, without which
the remainder cannot, * to the utility of the
subjects,' be exercised, the remainder must
of necessity be, on their part, and for their
sake, added."— (pp. UO, lU.)

Self- Trumpeter^a FaUaci/, — Mr. Ben-
tham explains the self>trumpeter*8 fal-
lacy as follows : —

** There are certain men in office who, in
discharge of their functions, arrogate to
themselves a d^ree of probity, which is to
exclude all imputations and all inquiry.
Their assertions are to be deemed equiva-
lent to proof; their virtues are guarantees
for the £uthM discharge of their duties;
and the most implicit confidence is to be
reposed in them on all occasions. If you
expose any abuse, propose any reform, call
for securities, inquiry, or. measures to pro-
mote publicity, they set up a cry of surprise,
amounting almost to indignation, as if their
int^rity were questioned, or their honour
wounded, ^ith all this, they dexterously

mix up intimations, that the most exalted
patriotism, honour, and perhaps religion,
are the only sources of all their actions."—
(p. 120.)

Of course every man will try what
he can effect by these means; but (as
Mr. Bentham observes) if there be any
one maxim in politics more certain
than another, it is that no possible
degree of virtue in the governor can
render it expedient for the governed
to dispense with good laws and good
institutions. Madame de Stael (to
her disgrace) said to the Emperor of
Russia, ** Sire, your character is a con-
stitution for your country, and your
conscience its guarantee." His reply
was, " Qnand cela serait, je ne serais
j * nu*un accident heureux ;*' and
tn... .. w think one of the truest and moRt
brilliant replies ever made by monarch.

Laudatory Personalities. — ** The object
of laudatory personalities is to effect the
rejection of a measure on account of the
alleged good character of those who oppose
it: and the argument advanced is, 'The
measiure is rendered unnecessary by the
virtues of those who are in power— their
opposition is a sufficient authority for the
rejection of the measure. The measure
proposed implies a distrust of the members
of His Majesty's Government ; but so great
is their integrity, so complete their disin-
terestedness, so uniformly do they prefer
the public advantage to their own, that
such a measure is altogether unnecessary.
Their disapproval is sufficient to warrant
an opposition ; precautions can only be re-
quisite where danger is apprehended : here,
the high character of the individuals in
question is a sufficient guarantee against
any ground of alarm.* "— (pp. 123, 124.)

The panegyric goes on increasing
with the dignity of the lauded person.
All are honourable and delightful men.
The person who opens the door of the
office is a person of approved fidelity ;
the junior clerk is a model of assiduity ;
all the clerks are models — seven years*
models, eight years' models, nine years'
models and upwards. The first clerk
is a paragon — and ministers the very
perfection of probity and intelligence ;
and as for the highest magistrate of
the state, no adulation is equal to de-
scribe the extent of his various merits I
It is too condescending perhaps to

F

66

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

refate such folly as this. But we woald
just observe, that if the propriety of the
measure in question be established by
direct arguments, these must be at
least as conclusive against the charac-
ter of those who oppose it, as their
character can be against the measure.
The effect of such an argument is, to
give men of good or -reputed good dia-
racter the power of putting a negative
on any question — not agreeable to their
inclinations.

**In every public trust, the legislator
should, for the purpose of prevention, sup*
pose the trustee disposed to break the trust
in every imaginable way in which it would
be possible for him to reap, from the breach
of it, any personal advantage. This is the
principle on which public institutions
ought to be formed ; and when it is applied
to all men indiscriminately, it is injurious
to none. The practical inference is, to
oppose to such possible (and what will
always be probable) breaches of trust, every
bar that can be opposed, consistently with
the power requisite for the efficient and due
dischai^e of the trust. Indeed, these argu*
ments, drawn from the supposed virtues of
men in power, are opposed to the first
principles on which all laws proceed.

** Such aU^ations of individual virtue are
never supported by specific proof, are scarce
ever susceptible of specific disproof; and
spedflc disproof, if ofl'ered, oould not be
admitted in eithw House of Parliament.
If attempted elsewhere, the punishment
woul fall, not on the unworthy trustee, but
on him by whom the unworthiness had been
proved."— (pp. 125. 126.)

Fallacies of pretended danger, — Im-
putation of bad design -— • of bad cha-
racter — of bad motives -^ of inconsis-
tency — of suspicious connections.

The object of this class of fallacies is
to draw aside attention from the mea-
sure to the man, and this in such a
manner, that, for some real or supposed
defect in the author of the measure, a
corresponding defect shall be imputed
to the measure itself. Thus, ^the
author of the measure entertains a bad
design ; therefore the measure is bad.
Bis character is bad, therefore the
measure is bad ; his motive is bad, I
will vote against the measure. On
former occasions this same person who
proposed the measure was its enemy,
therefore the measure is bad. He is on

a footing of intimacy with this or that
dangerous man, or has been seen in
his company, or is suspected of en-
tertaining some of his opinions, there-
fore the measure is bad. He bears a
name that at a former period was
borne by a set of men now no more,
by whom bad principles were enter-
tained — therefore the measure is bad !**
Now, if the measure be really inex-
pedient, why not at once show it to be
so ? If the measure be good, is it bad
because a bad man is its author ? If
bad, is it good because a good man
has produced it ? What are these
arguments, but to say to the assem-
bly who are to be the judges of any
measure, that their imbecility is too
great to allow them to judge of the
measure by its own merits, and that
they must have recourse to distant and
feebler probabilities for that purpose ?

" In proportion to the degree of efficiency
with which a man suffers these instruments
of deception to operate upon his mind he
enables b%d men to exercise over him a sort
of power, the thought of which ought to
cover him with shame. Allow this argu-
ment the effect of a conclusive one, you put
it into the power of any man to draw you
at pleasure firom the support of every
measure, which in your own eyes is good,
to force you to give your support to any and
every measure which in your own eyes is
bad. Is it good? — the ImuI man embraces
it, and, by the supposition, you reject it. Is
it bad?— he vituperates it, and that suffices
for driving you into its embrace. Tou split
upon the rocks, because he has avoided
them ; you miss the harbour, because he
has steered into it ! Give yourself up to
any such blind antipathy, you are no less in
the powor of your adversaries, than if, by a
oorrespondently irrational sympathy and
obsequiousness, you put yourself into the
power of your friends.*'— (pp. 182, 183.)

" Besides, nothing but laborious applica-
tion, and a clear and comprehensive intel-
lect, can enable a man, on any given subject,
to employ sucoesafully relevant arguments
drawn ft^m the subject itself. To employ
personalities, neither labour nor intellect is
required. In this sort of contest, the most
idle and the most ignorant are quite on a
par with, if not superior to, the most indus-
trious and the most highly-gifted indivi-
duals. Nothing OMi be more convenient for
those who would speak without the trouble
of thinking. The same ideas are brought

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

67

.forward orer and over again, and all that ia
required is to ^ary the torn of expression.
Close and relevwit ai^Tunents have very
little hold on the passions, and serve rather
to quell than to inflame them; while in
personalities there is always something
stimulant, whether on the part of him who
praises or him who blames. Praise forms a
Innd of connection between the party prais-
ing and the party praised, and vituperation
gives an air of courage and independence to
the parly who bhimea.

** Ignorance and indolence, firiendship and
enmity, concurring and conflicting interest,
servility and independence, all conspire to
give personalities the asccnidatu^ they so
unhappify maintain. The more we lie
under the influence of our own passions,
the mare we rely on others being affected
in a similar degree. A man who can repel
these injuries with dignity, may often con-
vert them into triumph : ' Strike me, but
faear,' says he, and the ftiry of lus antagonist
redonncto to his own discomfiture/*— (pp.
141, 142.)

JVo Innovation! — To say that all new
things are bad, is to say that all old
things were bad in their commence-
ment : for of all the old things ever
seen or heard of, there is not one
that was not once new. Whatever is
now establishment was once innova-
tion* The first inventor of pews and
parish clerks, was no doubt considered
as a Jacobin in his day. Judges,
juries, criers of the court, are all the
inventions of ardent spirits, who filled
the world with alarm, and were consi-
dered as the great precursors of ruin
and dissolution. Ko inoculation, no
turnpikes, no reading, no writing, no
Popery I The fool sayeth in his heart,
and crieth with his mouth, *'I will have
nothing new ! "

Falhcy of Distrust /— •* What's at
the fioftom?'*'— This fallacy begins with
a virtual admission of the propriety of
the measnre considered in itself, and
thus demonstrates its own futility, and
cuts up from under itself the ground
which it endeavours to make. A mea-
sure is to be rejected for something
that, by bare possibility, may be found
amiss in some other measure ! This is
Ticarious reprobation ; upon this prin-
ciple Herod instituted his massacre.
It is the argument of a driveller to
other drivellers, who says. We are not

able to decide upon the evil when it
arises — our only safe way is to act upon
the general apprehension of evil.

Official Malefactor's Screen, — •* At-
tack us — you attack Government**

If this notion is acceded to, every
one who derives at present any advan-
tage from misrule has it in fee-simple ;
and all abuses, present and future,
are without remedy. So long as there
is anything amiss in conducting the bu-
siness of Government, so long as it can
be made better, there can be no other
mode of bringing it nearer to perfec
tion than the indication of such im-
perfections as at the time being exist.

"But so fkr is it from being true that a
man's aversion or contempt for the hands
by which the powers of Government, or
even for the system under which they are
exercised, is a proof of his aversion or con-
tempt towards Government itself, that,
even in proportion to the strength of that
aversion or contempt, it is a proof of the
opposite affection. What, in consequence of
such contempt or aversion, he wishes for, is,
not that there be no hands at all to exer-
cise these powers, but that the hands may
be better regulated r-uot that those powers
should not be exerdsed at aU, but that they
should be better exercised;— not that in the
exercise of them, no rules at all should be
pursued, but that the rules by which they
are exercised should be a better set of rules.

*• All government is a trust ; every branch
of government is a trust ; and immemorially
acknowledged so to be : it is only by the
magnitude of the scale that public differ
from private trusts. I complain of the con-
duct of a person in the character of guar-
dian, as domestic guardian, having the care
of a minor or insane person. In so doing,
do I say that guardianship is a bad institu-
tion P Does it enter into the head of any
one to suspect me of so doing ? I complain
of an individual in the character of a com-
merdal agent, or assignee of the effects of
an insolvent. In so doing, do I say that
commercial agency is a bad thing P that the
practice of vesting in the hands of trustees
or aflsignees the effects of an insolvent, for
the purpose of their being divided among
his creditors, is a bad practice ? Does, any
such conceit ever enter into the head of
man, as that of suspecting me of so doing? "
—(pp. 162, 163.)

There are no complaints against go-
vernment in Turkey — no motions in
Parliament, no Morning Chronicles,

F 2

C8

BENTHAl^rS BOOK OF FALLACIES.

and no Edinburgh Reviews: yet of
all coantries in the world, it is tliat in
which revolts and revolations are the
most frequent.

It is so far from true, that no good
government can exist consistently with
SQch disclosure, that no good govern-
ment can exist without it. It is quite
obvious, to all who are capable of re-
flection, that by no other means than
by lowering the governors in the esti-
mation of the people, can there be hope
or chance of beneficial change. To
infer from this wise endeavour to les-
sen the existing rulers in the estima-
tion of the people, a wish of dissolving
the government, is either artifice or
error. The physician who intention-
ally weakens the patient hj bleed-
ing him has no intention he should
perish.

The greater the quantity of respect
a man receives, independently of good
conduct, the less good is his behaviour
hkely to be. It is the interest, there-
fore, of the public, in the <:ase of each,
to see that the respect paid to him
should, as completely as possible, de-
pend upon the goodness of his beha-
viour in the execution of his trust.
But it is, on the contrary, the interest
of the trustee, that the respect, the
money, or any other advantage he re-
ceives in virtue of his ofiice, should be
as great, as secure, and as independent
of conduct as possible. Soldiei-s ex-
pect to be shot at; public men must
expect to be attacked, and sometimes
unjustly. It keeps up the habit of con-
sidering their conduct as exposed to
scrutiny; on the part of the people at
large, it keeps alive the expectation of
witnessing such attacks, and the habit
of looking out for them. The friends
and supporters of government have al-
ways greater facility in keeping and
raising it up, than its adversaries have
for lowering it.

Accitsaiion-8carer*8 Device, — ^** Infa-
my must attach somewhere,**

This fallacy consists in representing
the character of a calumniator as ne-
cessarily and justly attaching upon him
who, having made a charge of miscon-
duct against any persons possessed of
political power or influence, fails of

producing evidence sufficient for their
conviction.

" If taken as a general propoeition, apply-
ing to all public accusations, nothing can
be more mischievous as well as fallacious.
Supposing the charge unfounded, the deli-
very of it may have been accompanied with
nuUa ftdei (consciousness of its injustice),
with iemeriiif only, or it may have been per-
fectly blameless. It is in the first case alone
that infamy can with propriety attach upon
him who brings it forward. Achai^ really
groundless may have been honestly believed
to be well founded, i. e, believed with asori
of provisional credence, sufficient for the
purpose of engaging a man to do his part
towards the lE>ringiDg about an investiga-
tion, but without sufficient reasons. But a
charge may be perfectly groundless without
attaching the smallest particle of blame
upon him who brings it forward. Suppose
him to have heard from one or more, pre-
senting themselves to him in the chancter
of percipient witnesses, a story, which eithnr
in totOt or i)erhaps onJy in circumstanceef
though in drcumstances of the most mate-
rial importance, should prove fUse and
mendacioua— how is the person who hears
this, and acts accordingly, to blame f . What
sagacity can enable a man previously to
legal investigation, a man who has no power
that can enable 1dm to insure correctness
or completeness on the part of this extra*
judicial testimony, to guard against deoep«
tion in such a case? **— (pp. 185, 188.)

Fallacy of False Consolation, —
** What is the matter with you f — What
would you have f Look at the people
there, and there ; tldnk how much better
off you are than they are. Your pros-,-
perity and liberty are objects of their
envy; your institutions models of their
imitation,^*

It is not the desire to look to tho
bright side that is blamed : but when
a particular suffering, produced by an
assigned canse, has been pointed out,
the object of many apologists is to turn
the eyes of inquirers and judges into
any other quarter in preference. If a
man*s tenants were to come with a
general encomium on the prosperity of
the country, instead of a specified sum,
would it be accepted ? In a court of
justice, in an action for damages, did
ever any such device occur as that of
pleading assets in the hands of a third
person ? There is, in tact, no country
so poor and so wretched in every

l^ENTHA^rS BOOK OF FALLACIES.

69

element of prosperity, in which matter
for this argument might not be foand.
Were the prosperity of the country
tenfold as great as at present, the ab-
surdity of the argument would not in
the least degree be lessened. Why
should the smallest evil be endured,
which can be cured, because others
suffer patiently under greater evils ?
Shoald the smallest improyement at-
tainable be neglected, because others
remain contented in a state of still
greater inferiority ?

* Seriously and pointedly in the character
of a bar to any measure of relief, no, nor to
the most trivial improvement, can it ever
be employed. Suppose a bill brought in for
converting an impassable road anywhere
Into a passable one, would any man stand
up to oppose it who could find nothing bet-
ter to ui^ against it than the multitude
and goodness of the roads we have already ?
iNTo : when in the character of a serious bar
to the measure in hand, be that measure
what it may, an argument so palpably in-
applicable is employed, it can only be for the
purpose of creating a diversion ,— of turn-
ing aside the minds of men flrom the subject
really in hand, to a picture, which by its
beauty, it is hoped, may engrost the atten-
tion of the assembly, and make them forget
fbr the moment for what purpose they came
there."— (pp. 198, 197.)

The Qjttietist, or no Complaint.— *' K new
law or measure being proposed in the cha-
racter of a remedy for some incontestable
abuse or evil, an objection is frequently
started to the following effect :— ' The mea-
sure is unnecessary. Nobody complains of
disorder in that shape, in which it is the
aim of your measure to propose a remedy
to it. But even when no cause of complaint
has been found to exist, especially und^
governments which admit of complaints,
men have in general not been slow to com-
plain; much less where any just cause of
complaint has existed.' The argument
amounts to this :— Nobody complains, there-
tcfre nobody suffers. It amounts to a veto
on all measures of precaution or prevention,
and goes to establish a maxim in legislation
directly opposed to the most ordinary pru-
dence of common life;— it enjoins us to
build no parapets to a bridge till the num-
ber of accidents has raised an universal
clamour.**- (pp. 190, 191.)

ProcrastintUor'a Argument. — " Wait
a little, this is not the time"

This is the common argument of
men, who, being in reality hostile to a

measure, are ashamed or afraid of ap-
pearing to be so. To-day is the pica
— eternal exclusion commonly the ob-
ject It is the same sort of quirk as a
plea of abatement in law — which is
never employed but on the side of a
dishonest defendant, whose hope it is
to obtain an ultimate triumph by over-
whelming his adversary with despair,
impoverishment, and lassitude. Which
is the properest day to do good ? which
is the properest day to remove a nuis-
ance ? "we answer, the very first day a
man can be found to propose the re-
moval of it ; and whoever opposes the
removal of it on that day will (if ho
dare) oppose it on every other. There
is in the minds of many feeble friends
to virtue and improvement, an imagi-
nary period for the removal of evils,
which it would certainly be worth while
to wait for, if there was the smallest
chance of its ever arriving — a period
of unexampled peace and prosperity,
when a patriotic king and an enligh-
tened mob united their ardent efforts
for the amelioration of human affairs ;
when the oppressor is as delighted to
give up the oppression, as the oppressed
is to be liberated from it ; when the diffi •
culty and the unpopulaiity would be
to continue the evil, not to abolish it I
These are the periods when fair-weather
philosophers are willing to venture out,
and hazard a little for the general good.
But the history of human nature is so
contrary to all this, that almost all im-
provements are made after the bitterest
resistance, and in the midst of tumults
and civil violence — the worst period at
which they can be made, compared to
which any period is eligible, and should
be seized hold of by the friends of sa-
lutary reform.

SnaiVs Pace argument.—** One thing at
a time ! Not too fast ! Slow and sure /—
Importance of the business — extreme diffi-
culty of the business— danger of innovation
—need of caution and circumspection— im-
possibility of foreseeing all consequences —
danger of precipitation— everything should
be gradual — one thing at a time— this is not
the time— great occupation at present-
wait for more leisure— people well satisfied
—no petitions presented— no complaints
heard- no such mischief has yet taken place
•—stay till it has taken place 1— Such is the

V 3

70

BENTHAM'8 BOOK OF FALLACIES.

prattle which the magpie in office, who, un*
derstanding nothing, yet understands that
he must have something to say on every
subject, shouts out among his auditors as
a suocedaneum to thought.'*— (pp. 203, 204)

Vague Generalities, — ^Vague gene-
ralities comprehend a nnmeroos class
of fallacies resorted to by those who,
in preference to the determinate ex-
pressions which they might use, adopt
others more vague and indeterminate.

Take, for instance, the terms, govern-
ment, laws, morals, religion. Every-
body will admit that there are in the
world bad governments, bad laws, bad
morals, and bad religions. The bare
circumstance, therefore, of being enga-
ged in exposing the defects of govern-
ment, law, morals, and religion, does
not of itself afford the slightest pre-
sumption that a writer is engaged in
anything blamable. If his attack be
only directed against that which is bad
in each, his efforts may be productive
of good to any extent. This essential
distinction, however, the defender of
abuses uniformly takes care to keep out
of sight ; and boldly imputes to his
antagonists an intention to subvert all
government, law, morals, and religion.
Propose anything with a view to the
improvement of the existing practice,
in relation to law, government, and re-
ligion, he will treat you with an oration
upon the necessity and utility of law,
government, and religion. Among the
several cloudy appellatives which have
been commonly employed as cloaks for
misgovernment, there is none more con-
spicuous in this atmosphere of illusion
than the word order. As often as any
measure is brought forward which has
for its object to lessen the sacritice made
hy the many to the few, social order is
the phrase commonly opposed to its
progress.

'* By a de&lcation made from any part of
the mass of factitious delay, vexation, and
expense, out of which, and in proportion to
which, lawyers* profit is made to flow— by
any defalcation made from the mass of need-
less and worse than useless emolument to
office, with or without service or pretence
of service— by any addition endeavoured to
be made to the quantity, or improvement
in the quality of service rendered, or time
bestowed in service rendered in return for

such emolument— l^ every endeavour that
has for its object the persuading the people
to place th^ fiite at the disposal of any
other agents than those in whose hands
breach of trust is certain, due ftilfilment of
it morally and physically impossible— Mciof
order is said to be endangered, and threat-
ened to be destroyed.**— (p. 234.)

In the same way Establishment is a
word in use to protect the bad parts of
establishments, by charging those who
wish to remove or alter them, with a
wish to subvert all good establishments.

Mischievous fallacies also circulate
from the convertible use of what Mr.
K is pleased to call dyslogistic and eu-
logistic terms. Thus a vast concern is
expressed for the liberty of the press^
and the utmost abhorrence for its licen"
tiousnessi but then, by the licentious-
ness of the press is meant every dis-
closure by which any abuse is brought
to light and exposed to shame — by the
liberty of the press is meant only publi-
cations from which no such inconveni-
ence is to be apprehended; and the-
fallacy consists in employing the sham
approbation of liberty as a mask for
the real opposition to all free discussion.
To write a pamphlet so ill that nobody
will read it ; to animadvert in terms so
weak and insipid upon great evils, tbat^
no disgust is excited at the vice, and no
apprehension in the evil doer, is a fair
use of the liberty of the press, and is
not only pardoned by the friends of
government, but draws from them the
most fervent eulogium. The licenti-
ousness of the press consists in doing
the thing boldly and well, in striking
terror into the guilty, and in rousing
the attention of the public to the de-
fence of their highest interests. This
is the licentiousness of the press held
in the greatest horror by timid and cor-
rupt men, and punished by semiani-
mous semicadaverous judges, with a
captivity of many years. In the same
manner the dyslogistic and eulogistic
fallacies are used in the case of reform.

"Between all abuses whatsoever, there
exists that connection— between all persons
who see each of them, any one abuse in
which an advantage results to himself, there
exists, in point of interest, that close and
sufficiently understood connection, of which
intimation has been given already. To no

BENTHAM^S BOOK OF FALLACIES-

71

one abuse can correction be administered
without endiftDgeriDg the existence of every
other.

*' If, then, with this inward determination
not to suffer, so far as depends upon himself,
the adoption of any reform which he is able
to prevent, it should seem to him necessary
or advisable to put on for a cover, the pro-
fession or appearance of a desire to oontri*
bute to such reform— in pursuance of the
device or fallacy here in question, he will
represent that which goes by the name of
reform as distinguishable into two species ;
one of them a fit subject for approbation,
the other for disapprobation. That which
he thus professes to have marked for ap-
pirobation, he will aooordin^» for the ez-
pression of such approbation, characterise
by some adjunct of the eiUoffistic cast, such
as moderate, for example, or tempenute, or
practical, or practicable^

** To the other of these nominally distinct
■pecieB, he will, at the same time, attach
some adjunct of the dpslogiatie cast, such
as violent, intemperate» extravagant, out-
rageous, theoretioal» 8peou]afeive» and so
forth.

" Thus, then, in profession and to appear-
ance, there are in his conception of the
matter two distinct and opposite species of
reform, to one of which his approl»tion, to
the other his disapprobation, is attached*
But the species to which his approbation is
attached is an emptif species-^^ species in
which no individual is, or is intended to be,
contained.

** The species to which his disapprobation
is attached is, on the contrary, a crowded
species, a receptacle in which the whole
contents of the genti9—ot the genus Beform
are intended to be included."— (pp. 277,278.)

Anti-rational Fallaciea. — ^When rea-
son is in opposition to a man's interests,
his study will naturally be to render the
faculty itself, and whatever issues from
it, an object of hatred and contempt.
The sarcasm and other figures of speech
employed on the occasion are directed
not merely against reason, but against
thought, as if there were something in
the faculty of thought that rendered
the exercise of it incompatible with
useful and successful practice. Some-
times a plan, which would not suit the
official person's interest, is without more
ado prohounced a«pecT(2a^/t;e one ; and,
by this observation, all need of rational
and deliberate discussion is considered
to be superseded. The first effort of
the corruptionist is to fix the epithet

Speculative upon any scheme which he
thinks may cherish the spirit of reform*
The depression is hailed with the great-
est delight by bad and feeble men, and
repeated with the most unwearied en^'
ergy } and to the word Speculative, by
way of reinforcement, are added theo'
redcaL, visionary, chimerical, romantic,
Utopian,

"Sometimes a distinction is taken, and
thereup<m a concession made. The plan is
good in theorw, but it would be bad in
praeiiee, i e. its being good in theoiy does
not hinder its being bad in practice.

*' Sometimes, as if in consequeuce of a
fiurther progress made in the art of irratiom
ality, the plan is pronounced to be ^oo good
to be practicable ; and its being so good as
it is, is thus represented as the very cause
of its being bad in practice.

" In short, such is the perfection at which
this art is at length arrived, that the very
circumstance of a plan's being susceptible
of the appellation of a plan^ has been
gravely stated as a drcumstance sufficient
to warrant its being rejected : rejected, if
not with hatred, at any rate with a sort of
accompaniment, which, to the million, is
commonly felt still more galling— with con*
tempt."— (p. 296.)

There is a propensity to push theory
too far ; but what is the jiist inference?
not that theoretical propositions (t. e*
all propositions of any considerable
comprehension or extent) should, from
such their extent, be considered to be
false in toto, but only that, in the par^*
ticular case, inquiry should be made
whether^ supposing the proposition to
be in the character of a rule generally
true, an exception ought to be taken
out of it. It might also be imagined
that there was something wicked or
unwise in the exercise of thought; for
everybody feels a necessity for disclaim<»
ing it. ** I am not given to speculation,
I am no friend to theories." Can a man
disclaim theory, can he disclaim spe*
culation, without disclaiming thought ?

The description of persons by whom
this fallacy is chiefly employed are those
who, regarding a plan as adverse to
their interests, and not finding it on
the ground of general utility exposed
to any preponderant objection, have
recourse to this objection in the cha-
racter of an instrument of contempt,
in the view of preventing those from

V 4

72

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

looking into it who might haye been
. otherwise disposed. It is by the fear of
seeing it practised that thej are drawn
to speak of it as impracticaUe. ''Upon
tlie face of it (exclainis some feeble or
pensioned gentleman), it carries that
• air of plausibility, that, if 70a were
not upon your goard, might engage
70a to bestow more or less of attention
upon it ; bnt were 70a to take the trou-
ble, 70a would find that (as it is with
all these plans which promise so much)
practicabilit7 would at last be wanting
to it. To save 7onrself from this trouble,
the wisest course 7on can take is to
put the plan aside, and to think no
more about the matter." This is al-
wa78 accompanied with a peculiar grin
of triumph.

The whole of these fallacies ma7 be
gathered together in 'a little oration,
which we will denominate the

Noodle's Oration,

**What would our ancestors sa7 to
this. Sir? How does this measure
tall7 with their institutions? How
docs it agree with their experience?
Are we to put the wisdom of 7esterda7
In competition with the wisdom of cen-
turies ? {Hear^ hear /) Is beardless
7outh to show no respect for the deci-
sions of mature age ? (Loud cries of
hear ! hear /) If this measure be right,
would it have escaped the wisdom of
those Saxon progenitors to whom we
are indebted for so man7 of our best
political institutions ? Would the Dane
have passed it over ? Would the Nor-
man have rejected it ? Would such a
notable discover7 have been reserved
for these modern and degenerate times ?
Besides, Sir, if the. measure itself is
good, I ask the honourable gentleman
if this is the time for carrying it into
execution — whether, in fact, a more
unfortunate period could have been
selected than that which he has chosen ?
If this were an ordinar7 measure, I
should not oppose it with so much ve-
hemence ; but. Sir, it calls in question
the wisdom of an irrevocable law — of
a law passed at the memorable period
of the lievolution. What right have
we. Sir, to break down this firm column,
on which the great men of that day

stamped a character of etemit7 ? Are
not all authorities against this measure
— Pitt, Fox, Cicero, and the Attome7
and Solicitor General ? The proposi-
tion is new. Sir ; it is the first time it
was ever heard in this House. I am
not prepared. Sir — this House is not
prepared, to receive it. The measure
implies a distrust of his Majest7's go-
vernment; their disapproval is sufiS-
cient to warrant opposition. Precaution
onl7 is requisite where danger is ap-
prehended. Here the high character
of the individuals in question is a suffi-
cient guarantee against an7 ground of
alarm. Give not, then, your sanction
to this measure ; for, whatever be its
character, if yon do give your sanction
to it, the same man by whom this is
proposed, will propose to you others to
which it will be impossible to give your
consent. I care Vjery little. Sir, for the
ostensible measure ; but what is there
behind? What are the honourable
gentleman's future schemes? If we
pass this bill, what fresh concessions
may he not require? What further
degradation is be planning for \\\s
country? Talk of evil and incon-
venience. Sir ! look to other countries
— study other aggregations and socie-
ties of men, and then see whether the
laws of this country demand a remedy
or deserve a panegyric. Was the ho-
nourable gentleman (let me ask him)
always of this way of thinking ? Do
I not remember when he was the ad-
vocate in this House of very opposite
opinions? I not only quarrel with his
present sentiments. Sir, but I declare
very frankly, I do not like the party
with which he acts. If his own mo-
tives were as pure as possible, they
cannot but suffer contamination from
those with whom he is politically asso-
ciated. This measure may be a boon
to the constitution ; but I will accept
no favour to the constitution from such
hands. (JLoud cries of hear I hear /) I
profess myself. Sir, an honest and up-
right member of the British Parlia-
ment, and I am not afraid to profess
myself an enenfy to all change and all
innovation. I am satisfied with things
as they are ; and it will be my pride
and pleasure to hand down this coan-

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

r3

try to mj children as I received it from
those who preceded me. The honour-
able gentleman pretends to jastifj the
scveritj with which he has attacked the
noble Lord who presides in the Conrt
of Chancery ; but I say such attacks
are pregnant with mischief to Govern-
ment itself. Oppose Ministers, you
oppose' Government : disgrace Minis-
ters, yon disgrace Government : bring
Ministers into contempt, you bring Go-
vernment into contempt ; and anarchy
and civil war are the consequences.
Besides, Sir, the measure is unneces-
sary. Nobody complains of disorder
in that shape in which it is the aim of
yonr measure to propose a remedy to
it. The business is one of the greatest
importance ; there is need of the great-
est caution and circumspection. Do
not let us be precipitate. Sir. It is im-
possible to foresee all consequences.
Everything should be gradual : the ex-
ample of a neighbouring nation should
fill us with alarm ! The honourable
gentleman has taxed me with illibe-
rality, Sir. I deny the charge. I
hate innovation ; but I love improve-
ment. I am an enemy to the corrup-
tion of Government ; but I defend its
influence. I dread Reform; but I
dread it only when it is intemperate.
I consider the liberty of the Press as
the great Palladium of the Constitu-
tion ; but, at the same time, I hold
the licentiousness of the Press in the
greatest abhorrence. Nobody is mora
conscious than I am of the splendid
abilities of the honourable mover ; but
I tell him at once his scheme is too
good to be practicable. It savours of
Utopia. It looks well in theory; but
it won't do in practice. It will not
do, I repeat. Sir, in practice ; and so
the advocates of the measure will find,
if unfortunately it should find its way
through Parliament. {Cheers.) The
source of that corruption to which the
honourable member alludes, is in the
minds of the people: so rank and ex-
tensive is that corruption, that no poli-
tical reform can have any effect in re-
moving it Instead of reforming others
— instead of reforming the State, the
Constitution, and everything that is

most excellent, let. each man refoiin shape of insmcerity.

himself ! let him look at home ; he
will find there enongh to do, without
looking abroad, and aiming at what
is out of his power. {Loud Cheers.)
And now, Sir, as it is frequently the
custom in this House to end with a
quotation, and as the gentleman who
preceded me in the debate has antici-
pated me in my favourite quotation of
* The strong pull and the long puli,* —
I shall end with the memorable words
of the assembled Barons — * Nolumus
leges Anglia mutari.* "

*' Upon the whole, the following are the
characters which appertain in common to
all the several arguments here distinguished
by the name of fallacies : —

" 1. Whatsoever be the measure in hand,
they are, with rehition to it, irrelevant.

"2. They are all of them such, that the
application of these irrelevant arguments
affords a presumption either of the weak-
ness or total absence of relevant arguments
on the side on which they are employed.

'*S. To any good purpose they are all of
them unnecessary.

** 4. They are all of them not only capable
of being applied, but actually in the habit
of bemg applied, and with advantage, to
bad purposes; viz. to the obstruction and
defeat of all such measures as have for their
object the removal of the abuses or other
imperfections still discernible in the frame
and practice of the government.

** ft. By means of their irrelevancy, they all
of them consume and misapply time, there-
by obstructing the course and retarding the
progress of all necessary and useful business.
*'6. By that irritative quality which, in
virtue of their irrelevancy, with the impro-
bity or weakness of which it is indicative,
they possess, all of them, in a degree more
or less considerable, but in a more parti-
cular d^ree such of them as consist in per-
sonalities, they are productive of ill-humour,
which in some instances has been produc-
tive of bloodshed, and is continually pro-
ductive, as above, of waste of time and
hindrance of business.

** 7. On the part of those who, whether in
spoken or written discourses, give utterance
to them, they are indicative either of impro-
bity or intellectual weakness, or of a con-
tempt for the understanding of those on
whose minds they are destined to operate.
"8. On the part of those on whom they
operate, they are indicative of intellectual
weakness ; and on the part of those in and
by whom they are pretended to operate
they are indicative of improbity, viz. in the

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

'* The practical conclusion is, that in pro-
portion as the acceptance, and thence the
utterance, of them can be prevented, the un-
derstanding of the public will be Strength-
ened, the morals of the public will be puri-
fied, and the practice of gOYemment im-
proved."— (pp. 360, 860.)

WATERTON. (E. Review, 1826.)

Wanderinffs *n South America, the North'
West of the United States, and the An-
tiOes, in the Years 1812, 1816, 1820, and
1824 ; with original Instructions for the
perfect Preservation of Sirds, d:c, for
Cabinets qf Natural History, By Charles
TVaterton, Esq. London. Mawman. 4ito.
1825.

Mr. Waterton is a Roman Catholic
gentleman of Yorkshire, of good for-
tune, who, instead of passing his life
at balls and assemblies, has preferred
living with Indians and monkies in the
forests of Guiana. He appears in early
life to have been seized with an un*
conquerable aversion to Ficcadillj,
and to that train of meteorological
questions and answers which forms the
great staple of polite English conver-
sation. From a dislike to the regular
form of a journal, he throws his travels
into detached pieces, which he, rather
affectedly, calls '* Wanderings ** — and
of which we shall proceed to give some
account.

His first Wandering was in the year
1812, through the wilds ofDemerara
and Essequibo — a part of cidevant
Dutch Guiana, in South Americai
The sun exhausted him by day, the
mosquitoes bit him by night ; but on
went Mr. Charles Waterton I

The first thing which strikes us in
this extraordinary chronicle, is the
genuine zeal and inexhaustible delight
with which all the barbarous countries
he visits are described. He seems to
love the forests, the tigers, and the
apes ; — to be rejoiced that he is the
only man there ; that he has left his
species far away, and is at last in the
midst of his blessed baboons I He
writes with a considerable degree of
force and vigour ; and contrives to
infuse into his reader that admiration
of the great works and undisturbed
scenes of Nature which animates his

style, and has influenced his life and
practice. There is something, too,
to be highly respected and praised in
the conduct of a country gentleman,
who, instead of exhausting life in the
chasO) has dedicated a considerable
portion of it to the pursuit of know-
ledge. There are so many tempta-
tions to complete idleness in the life of
a cotintry gentleman, so many exam-
ples of it, and so much loss to the
community from it, that every excep-
tion from the practice is deserving of
great praise. Some country gentlemen
must remain to do the business of their
counties ; but, in general, there are
many more than are wanted ; and,
generally speaking, also, they are a
class who should be stimulated to
greater exertions. Sir Joseph Banks,
a squire of large fortune in Lincoln-
shire, might have given up his exist-
ence to double-barrelled guns and
persecution of poachers ; — and all the
benefits derived from his wealth, in-
dustry, and personal exertion in the
cause of science, would have been lost
to the community.

Mr. Waterton complains that the
trees of Guiana ara not more than six
yards in circumference — a magnitude
in trees which it is not easy for a
Scotch imagination to reach. Among
these, pre-eminent in height rises the
mora — upon whose top branches, when
naked by age, or dried by accident,
is perched the toucan, too high for the
gun of the fowler ; around this are,
the green heart, famous for hardness ;
the tough hackea ; the ducalabaly,
surpassing mahogany ; the ebony and
letter-wood, exceeding the most beau-
tiful woods of the Old Worid ; the
locust-tree, yielding copal ; and the
hayawa and olou trees, furnishing
sweet-smelling resin. Upon the top
of the mora grows the fig-tree. The
bush-rope joins tree and tree, so as to
render the forest impervious, as de-
scending from on high, it takes root
as soon as its extremity touches the
ground, and appears like shrouds and
stays supporting the mainmast of a
line-of-battle ship.

Demerara yields to no country in the
world in her birds. The mud is flam*

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

75

ing with the scarlet, curlew. At sun-
set, the pelicans return from the sea to
the courada trees. Among the flowers
are the humming-birds. The colum-
bine, gallinaceous, and pesserine tribes
people the fruit-trees. At the close
of the day, the vampires, or winged
bats, suck the blood of the traveller,
and cool him bv the flap of their
wings. Nor has Nature forgotten to
amuse herself here in the composition
of snakes : — the camoudi has been
killed from thirtj to forty feet long ;
he does not act bj venom, but bv size
and convolution. The Spaniards affirm
that he grows to the length of eighty
feet, and that he will swallow a bull ;
bat Spaniards love the superlative.
There is a whipsnake, of a beautiful
green. The Labairi snake, of a dirty
brown, who kills you in a few minutes.
Every lovely colour under heaven is
lavished upon the conna-chouchi, the
most venomous of reptiles, and known
by the name of the bush'tntister, Man
and beast, says Mr. Waterton, fly be-
fore Mm, and allow him to pursue an
undisputed path.

We consider the following descrip-
tion of the various sounds in these wild
regions, as yery striking, and done with
Teiy considerable powers of style»

"He whose eye can distinguish the vari*
OQB beauties of uncultivated nature, and
whose ear is not shut to the wild sounds in
the woods, will be delighted in passing up
the river Bemerara. Every now and then,
the maam or tinamou sends forth one long
And phiutive whistle from the depth of the
forest, and then stops ; whilst the yelping
of the toucan, and the shrill voice of the
bird called pi-pi-yo, is heard during the in-
tervaL The campanero never fiuls to attract
the attention of the passenger : at a distance
of nearly thiee miles you may hear this
saow-wUte bird tolling every four or five
minutesjlike the distant convent belL From
six to nine in the morning, the forests re-
sound with the mingled cries and strains of
the feathered race ; after this they gradu-
ally die away. From eleven to three all nar>
tore is hushed as in a midnight silence,
tad scarce a note is heard, saving that of
the campanero and the pi-pi-yo; it is then
that, oppressed by the solar heat, the birds
retire to the thickest shade, and wait for
the ref^hing cool of evening.

"At sundown the vampires, bats, and

goatsuckers, dart flrom their lonely retreat,
and skim along the trees on the river's bank.
The different kuds of fh)gs almost stun the
ear with their hoarse and hollow sounding
croaking, while the owls and goatsuckers
lament and mourn all night long.

"About two hours before daybreak you
will hear the red monkey moaning as though
in deep distress ; tiie houtou, a solitaiy bird,
and only found in the thickest recesses of
the fwest, distinctly articulates, ' houtou,
houtou,' in % low and plaintive tone, an
hour before sunrise; the maam whistles
about the same hour; the hannaquoi, pa*
taca, uid marondi announce his near
approach to the eastern horison, and the
parrots and paroquets oonflrm his arrival
tbere."->(pp. 18—16.)

Our good Quixote of Demerara Is
a little too fond of apostrophising: —
** Traveller ! dost thou think ? Rea-
der) dost thou imagine ? " Mr. Water-
ton should remember, that the whole
merit of these violent deviations from
common style depends upon their ra-
rity ) and that nothing does, for ten
pages together, but the indicative mood.
This fault gives an air of affectation to
the writing of Mr. Waterton, which we
believe to be foreign from his charac-
ter and nature. We do not wbh to
deprive him of these indulgences alto-
gether ; but merely to put him upon an
allowance^ and upon such an allowance
as will give to these figures of speech
the advantage of surprise and relief.

This gentleman's delight and exul-
tation always appear to increase as he
loses sight of European inventions, and
comes to something purely Indian.
Speaking of an Indian tribe, he says, —

" They had only one gun, and it appeared
rusty and neglected; but their poisoned
weapons were in fine order. Their blow-
pipes hung from the roof of the hut, care-
tvjlj suspended by a silk grass cord; and
on taking a nearer view of them, no dust
seemed to have collected there, nor had the
spider spun the smallest web on them;
which showed that they wore in constant
use. The quivers were close by them, with
the jaw-bone of the fish pirai tied by a string
to their brim, and a small wicker-basket
of wild cotton, which hung down to the
centre : they were nearly ftill of poisoned
arrows. It was with difficulty these Indians
could be persuaded to part with any of the
Wourali poison, though a good price was
offered for it : they gave us to understand

'6

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

that it was powder and shot to them, and
very difBicult to be procured.'*— (pp. 34, 86.)

A wicker-basket of wild cotton, full
of poisoned arrows for shooting iish !
This is Indian with a vengeance. We
fairly admit, that in the contemplation
of sach utensils, every trait of civi-
lised life is completely and effectaally
banished.

One of the strange and fanciful ob-
jects of Mr. Waterton's journey was,
to obtain & better knowledge of the
composition and nature of the Won-
rail poison, the ingredient with which
the Indians poison their arrows. In
the wilds of Esseqnibo, far away from
any European settlements, there is a
tribe of Indians, known by the name
of Macoushi, The Wouraii poison is
nsed by all the South American savages
betwixt the Amazon and the Oroo-
noque ; but the Macoushi Indians
manufacture it with the greatest skill,
and of the greatest strength. A vine
grows in* the forest, called Wouraii;
and from this vine, together with a
good deal of nonsense and absurdity,
the poison is prepared. When a native
of Macoushi goes in quest of feathered
game, he seldom carries his bow and
arrows. It is the blow-pipe he then
uses. The reed grows to an amazing
length, as the part the Indians use is
from 10 to 11 feet long, and no taper-
ing can be perceived, one end being as
thick as another; nor is tliere the slight-
est appearance of a knot or joint. The
end which is applied to the month is
tied round with a small silk grass cord.
The arrow is from 9 to 10 inches long;
it is made out of the leaf of a palm-
tree, and pointed as sharp as a needle :
about an inch of the pointed end is
poisoned; the other end is burnt to
make it still harder; and wild cotton is
put round it for an inch and a half.
The quiver holds from .OOO to 600
arrows, is from 12 to 14 inches long,
and in shape like a dice-box. With a
quiver of these poisoned aiTows over
his shoulder, and his blow-pipe in his
hand, the Indian stalks into the forest
in quest of his feathered game.

"These generally sit high up inthetaU
and tufted trees, but still are not out of the
Indian's reach; for his blow-pipe, at its

greatest elevation, will send an arrow three
hundred feet. Silent as midnight he steals
under them, and so cautiously does he tread
the ground, that the fallen leaves rustle not
beneath his feet. His ears are open to the
least sound, while his eye, keen as that of
the lynx, is employed in finding out the
game in the thickest shade. Often he imi-
tates thdr cry, and decoys them from tree
to tree, till they are within range of his
tube. Then, taking a poisOned arrow fkrom
his quiver, he puts it in the blow-pipe, and
collects his breath for the fatal puff.

*' About two feet firom the end through
which he blows, there are fastened two
teeth of the acouri, and these serve him for
a sight. Silent and swift the arrow flies,
and seldom fails to pierce the object at
which it is sent. Sometimes the wounded
bird remains in the same tree where it was
shot, but in three minutes falls down at the
Indian's feet. Should he take wing, his
flight is of short duration, and the Indian,
following in the direction he has gone, is
sure to find him dead.

".It is natural to ima^ne that, when a
slight wound oidy is infiicted, the game
will make its escape. Far otherwise; the
Wouraii poison instantaneously mixes with
blood or water, so that if you wet your
finger, and dash it along the poisoned
arrow in the quickest manner possible, you
are sure to carry off some of the poison.

" Though three minutes generally elapse
before the convulsions come on in the
wounded bird, still a stupor evidently takes
place sooner, and this stupor manifests
itself by an apparent imwillingness in the
bird to move. This was veiy visible in a
dying fowL"— (pp. 60—62.)

The flesh of the giame is not in the •
slightest degree injured by the poison ;
nor does it appear to be corrupted
sooner than that killed by the gun or
knife. For the larger animals, an
arrow with a poisoned spike is used.

"Thus armed with deadly poison, and
hungry as the hyaena, he ranges through
the forest in quest of the wild beasts' track.
No hound can act a surer part. Without
clothes to fetter him, or shoes to bind his
feet, he observes the footsteps of the game^
where an European eye could not discern
the smallest vestige. He pursues it through
all its turns and windings, with astonishing
perseverance, and success generally crowns
his efforts. The animal, after receiving the
pqisoned arrow, seldom retrtets two hun-
dred paces before it drops.

" In passing over land from the Essequibo
to the Demerara» we fell in with a heard of

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

wild hogs. Though encumbered with bag-
gage, and fttigued with a hard day's walk,
an Indian got his bow ready, and let fly a
poisoned arrow at one of them. It entered
the cheek-bone, and broke off. The wild
hog was found quite dead about one hun-
dred and seventy paces from the place
where he had been shot. He afforded us
an excellent and wholesome supper." —
(p. 66.)

Being a Woitrali poison fancier, Mr.
Waterton has recorded several instan-
ces of the power of his favourite drug.
A sloth poisoned by it went gently to
sleep, and died ! a large ox, weighing
one thousand pounds, was shot with
three arrows; the poison took effect in
4 minutes, and in 25 minutes he was
dead. The death seems to be very
gentle, and resembles more a quiet
apoplexy, brought on by hearing a
long story, than any other kind of
death. If an Indian happen to be
wounded with one of these arrows, he
considers it as certain death. We have
reason to congratulate ourselves that
our method of terminating disputes in
by sword and pistol, and not by these
medicated pins ; which, we presume,
will become the weapons of gentlemen in
the New Republics of South America.

The second Journey of Mr. Water-
ton, in the year 1816, was to Fernam-
buco, in the southern hemisphere, on
the coast of Brazil; and from thence
he proceeds to Cayenne. His plan
was, to have ascended the Amazon
from Para, and got into the Rio Negro,
and from thence to have returned to-
wards the source of the Essequibo, in
order to examine the Crystal Moun-
tains, and to look once more for Lake
Parima, or the White Sea ; but on
arriving at Cayenne, he found that to
beat up the Amazon would be long and
tedious: he left Cayenne, therefore, in
an Anaerican ship for Paramaribo,
went throngh the interior to Coryntin,
stopped a few days at New Amster-
dam, and proceeded to Dcmerara.

"Leave behind you (he says to the tra-
veller) your high-seasoned dishes, your
wines, and your delicacies ; carry nothing
but what is necessary for your own comfort,
and the object in view, and depend upon
the ddll of an Indian, or your own, for fish

77

and game. A sheet, about twelve feet long,
ten wide, painted, and with loop-holes on
each side, will be of great service : in a few
minutes you can suspend it betwixt two
trees in the shape of a roof. Under this, in
your hammock, you may defy the pelting
shower, and sleep heedless of the dews of
night. A hat, a shirt, and a light pair of
trowsers, will be all the raiment you re-
quire. Custom will soon teach you to tread
lightly and barefbot on the Uttle inequalities
of the ground, and show you how to pass
on, unwounded, amid the mantling briiurs."
—(pp. 112; 113.)

Snakes are certainly an annoyance;
but the snake, though high spirited, is
not quarrelsome; he considers his fangs
to be given for defence, and not for
annoyance, and never inflicts a wound
but to defend existence. If you tread
upon him, ho puts you to death for
your clumsiness, merely because he
does not understand what your clum-
siness means ; and certainly a snake,
who feels fourteen or fifteen stone
stamping upon his tail, has little time
for reflection, and may be allowed to
be poisonous and peevish. American
tigers generally run away — from which
several respectable gentlemen in Par-
liament inferred, in the American war,
that American soldiers would run away
also !

The description of the birds is very
animated and interesting ; but how far
does the gentle reader imagine the
campanero may be heard, whose size
is that of a jay ? Perhaps 300 yards.
Poor innocent, ignorant reader ! un-
conscious of what Nature has done in
the forests of Cayenne, and measuring
the force of tropical intonation by the
sounds of a Scotch duck I The cam-
panero may be heard three miles I —
this single little bird being more power-
ful than the belfry of a cathedral, ring-
ing for a new dean — just appointed on
account of shabby politics, small un-
derstanding, and good family!

" The fifth species is the celebrated cam-
panero of the Spaniards, called dara by the
Indians, and bell-bird by the English. He
is about the size of the jay. His plumage
is white as snow. On his forehead rises a
spiral tube nearly three inches long. It is
jet black, dotted all over with small white
feathers. It has a communication with the

78

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

p&]sto» and when filled with &ir, looks like
a spire ; when empty it becomes pendulous.
His note is loud and clear, like the sound
of a bell, and may he heard at the distonoe
of three miles. In the midst of these exten-
sive wildfl, generally on the dried top of an
aged mora, almost out of gun reach, you
will see the campanero. No aonnd or song
from any of the winged inhabitants of the
forest, not even the clearly pronounced
• Whip-poor-Will,* flpom the goatsucker,
cause such astonishment as the toll of the
campanero.

"With many of the feathered race he
pays the common tribute of a morning and
an evening song ; and even when the meri*
dian sun has shut in silence the mouths of
almost the whole of animated nature, the
camiMknero still cheers the forest. You
hear his toll, and then a pause for a minute,
then another toll, and then a pause again,
and then a toll, and again a pause."— (pp.
117, 118.)

It is impossible to contradict a gen-
tleman who has been in the forests of
Cayenne ; bat we are determined, as
soon as a campanero is brought to
England, to make him toll in a public
place, and have the distance measured.
The toucan has an enormous bill,
makes a noise like a puppy dog, and
lays his eggs in hollow trees ? How
astonishing are the freaks and fancies
of Nature ! To what parpose, we
say, is a bird placed in the woods of
Cayenne, with a bill a yard long,
making a noise like a pnppy dog, and
laying eggs in hollow trees? The
toucans, to be sure, might retort, to
what purpose were gentlemen in Bond
street created ? To what purpose
were certain foolish prating Members
of Parliament created ?— pestering the
House of Commons with their igno-
rance and folly, and impeding the busi-
ness of the country ? There is no end
of such questions. So we will not
enter into the metaphysics of the tou-
can. The houtou ranks high in beauty ;
his whole body is green, his wings and
tail blue, his crown is of black and
blue ; he makes no nest, but rears his
young in the sand.

'* The caasique, in size, is larger than the
starling; he courts the society of man, but
disdains to live by his labours. When
Nature calls for support, he repairs to the
neighbouring forest, and there partakes of

the store of fruits and seeds, which she has
produced in abundance for her aSrial tribes.
When his repast is over, he returns to
man, and pays the little tribute which he
owes Um for his iirotection ; he takes his
station on a tree, close to his houoe ; and
there, for hours together, pours forth a
succmsion of imitative notes. His own
song is sweet, but very short. If a toucan
be yelping in the neighbourhood, he drops
it, and imitates him. Then he will amuse
his protector with the cries of the difTerent
species of the woodpecker ; and when the
sheep bleat, he will distinctly answer them.
Then cornea his own song again, and if a
puppy dog or a guinea fowl interrupt him,
he takes them off admirably, and by his
different gestures during the time, you
would conclude that he enjoys the sport.

"The cassique is gregarious, and imitates
any sound he hears with such eacactness,
that he goes by no other name than that of
mocking-bird amongst the colonists.** —
(pp. 127, 128.)

There is no end to the extraordinaiy
noises of the forest of Cayenne. The
woodpecker, in striking against the
tree with his bill, makes a sound so
loud, that Mr. Waterton says it re-
minds you more of a wood-cutter than
a bird. While lying in your hammock,
you hear the goatsucker lamenting like
one in deep distress — a stranger would
take it for a Weir murdered by ThurtelL

" Suppose yourself in hopeless sorrow,,
begin with a high loud note, and pronounce^
' ha, ha, ha^ ha, ha* ha* ha^* each note lower
and lower, till the last is scarcely heard,
pausing a moment or two betwixt every
note, and you will have some idea of the
moaning of the largest goatsucker in Deme-
rank"— (p. 141.)

One species of the goatsucker cries,
** Who are you ? who are yon ?" An-
other exclaims, "Work away, work
away." A third, "Willy, come go,
Willy, come go.** A fourth, " Whip-
poor-Will, Whip-poor-Will.** It is
very flattering to us that they should
all speak English ! — though we cannot
much commend the elegance of their
selections. The Indians never destroy
these birds, believing them to be the
servants of Jumbo, the African devil.

Great travellers are very fond of
triumphing over civilised life; and Mr.
Waterton does not omit the opportu-
nity of remarking, that nobody ever

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

79

ttopt hilt) in the forests of Cayenne to
ask him for his licence, or to inquire if
he had a hundred a year, or to take
away his gan, or to dispute the limits
of a manor, or to threaten him with a
tropical justice of the peace. We hope,
however, that in this point we are on
the eve of improvement, Mr, Peel,
who is a man of high character and
principles, may depend upon it that
the time is come for his interference,
and that it will be a loss of reputation
to him not to interfere. If any one
else can and will carry an alteration
through Parliament, there is no occa«
sion that the hand of Government
should appear; but some hand must
appear. The common people are be-
coming ferocious, and the perdricide
criminals are more numerous than the
violators of all the branches of the
Decalogue,

"The king of the vultures is very hand-
some, and seems to be the only bird which
cbums r^;^! honours from a surrounding
tribe. It is a fiict bt^ond aU dispute, that
when the scent of carrion has drawn toge-
ther hundreds of the common vultures, they
all rethre from the carcass as soon as the
long of the vultures malkes his appearance.
When his majesty has satisfied the cravings
of his royal stomach with the choicest bits
from the most stinking and corrupted parts,
he generally retires to a neighbouring tree,
SDd then the common vultures return in
crowds to gobble down his leavings. The
Indians, as well as the whites, have ob-
Berved this ; for vrhen one of them, who has
learned a little English, sees the king, and
wishes you to have a proper notion of the
bird, he says, ' There is the governor of the
carrion crows.*

" Now, the Indians have never heard of a
personage in Demerara higher than that of
Sovemor; and the colonists, through a
common mistake, call the vultures carrion
<!row8. Hence the Indian, in order to ex-
press the dominion of this bird over the
common vultures, tells you he is governor
of the carrion crows. The Spaniards have
•too observed it, for through all the Spanish
Hatn he is called Bey de Zamuros, king of
the vultures."— (p. 14A.)

This, we think, explains satisfacto-
rily the origin of kingly government.
As men have " learnt from the dog the
physic of the field," they may probably
have learnt from the vulture those high

lessons of policy upon which, in En-
rope, we suppose the whole happiness
of society, and the very existence of
the human race, to depend.

Just before his third journey, Mr.
Waterton takes leave of Sir Joseph
Banks, and speaks of him with affec-
tionate regret, ** I saw," (says Mr. W. )
'* with sorrow, that death was going to
rob us of him. We talked of stufiing
quadrupeds ; I agreed that the lips and
nose ought to be cut off, and stuffed
with wax." This is the way great
naturalists take an eternal farewell of
each other ! Upon stufiing animals,
however, we have a word to say. Mr.
Waterton has placed at the head of
his book, the picture of what he is
pleased to consider a nondescript spe-
cies of monkey. In this exhibition our
author is surely abusing his stuffing
talents, and laughing at the public It
is clearly the head of a Master in
Chancery — whom we have often seen
backing in the House of Commons
after he has delivered his message.
It is foolish thus to trifie with science
and natural history. Mr. Waterton
gives an interesting account of the
sloth, an animal of which he appears
to be fond, and whose habits he has
studied with peculiar attention.

^ "Some years ago I kept a sloth in my
room for several months. I often took him
out of the house and placed him upon the
ground, in order to have an opportunity of
observing his motions. If the ground were
rough, he would pull himself forwards by
means of his fore legs, at a pret^ good
pace i and he invariably shaped his course
towards the nearest tree. But if I put him
upon a smooth and well-trodden part of the
road, he appeared to be in trouble and dis-
tress : his favourite abode was the back of
a chair ; and after getting all his legs in a
line upon the topmost part of it, he would
hang there for hours together, and often,
with a low and inward cry, would seem to
invite me to take notice of him."— (p. 164.)

The sloth, in its wild state, spends
its life in trees, and never leaves them
but from force or accident. The eagle
to the sky, the mole to the ground, the
sloth to the tree ; but what is most
extraordinary, he lives not ttpon the
branches, but under them. He moves
suspended, rests suspended, sleeps sus-

80

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

pended, and passes his life in suspense —
like a young clergyman distantly re-
lated to a bishop. Strings of ants
may be observed, says our good travel-
ler, a mile long, each carrying in its
mouth a green leaf the size of a six-
pence ! be does not say whether this is
a loyal procession, like Oak-apple Day,
or for what purpose these leaves are
carried ; but it appears, while they are
carrying the leaves, the three soits of
ant-bears are busy in eating them. The
habits of the largest of these three ani-
mals are curious, and tO us new. We
recommend the account to the attention
of the reader.

*'He is chiefly found in the inmost re-
cesses of the forest, and seems partial to
the low and swampy parts near creeks
where the Troely tree grows. There he
goes up and down in quest of ants, of which
there is never the least scarcity; so that he
soon obtains a sufflcient supply of food,
with very Uttle trouble. He cannot travel
fost; man is superior to him in speed.
Without swiftness to enable him to escape
from his enemies, without teeth, the pos-
session of which would assist him in self-
defence, and without the power of burrow-
ing in the ground, by which he might
conceal himself fh>m his pursuers, he still
is capable of ranging through these wilds
in perfect safety ; nor does he fear the flital
pressure of the serpent's fold, or the teeth
of the famished jaguar. Nature has formed
his fore legs wonderfully thick, and strong,
and muscular, and armed his feet with
three tremendous sharp and crooked claws.
Whenever he seizes an animal with these
formidable weapons, he hugs it close to his
body, and keeps it there till it dies through
pressure, or through want of food. Nor
does the ant-bear, in the meantime, sufTer
much from loss of aliment, as it is a well-
known fact that he can go longer without
food than perhaps any other animal, except
the land tortoise. His skin is of a texture
that perfectly resists the4)ite of a dog ; his
hinder parts are protected by thick and
shaggy hair, while his immense tail is large
enough to cover his whole body.

" The Indians have a great dread of com-
ing in contact with the ant-bear ; and after
disabling him in the chase, never think of
approaching him till he be quite dead."—
(pp. 171. 172.)

The vampire measures about 26
inches from wing to wing. There are
two species, large and small. The large

suck men, and the smaller birds. Mr.
W. saw some fowls which had been
sucked the night before, and they were
scarcely able to walk.

"Some years ago I went to the river
Paumaron with a Scotch gentleman, l^
name Tarbet. We hung our hammocks in
the thatched loft of a planter's house. Next
morning I heard this gentleman muttering
in his hammock, and now and then letting
fall an imprecation or two, just about the
time he ought to have been saying his
morning prayers. ' What is the matter.
Sir ? ' said I, softly ; 'is anything amiss f ' —
' What's the matter ? ' answered he, surlily ;
' why the vampires have been sucking me
to death.' As soon as there was light
enough, I went to his hammock, and saw it
much stained with blood. ' There,' said he,
thrusting his foot out of the hammock,
'see how these infernal imps have been
drawing my life's blood.' On examining
his foot, I found the vampire hyd tapped
his great toe : there was a wound somewhat
less than that made by a leech; the blood
was still oozing from it; I conjectured he
might have lost from ten to twelve ounces
of blood. Whilst examining it, I think I
put him into a worse humour by remarking
that an European surgeon would not have
been so generous as to have blooded him
without making a chai^. He looked up in
my face, but did not say a word: I saw he
was of opinion that I had better have
spared this piece of ill-timed levity." —
(pp. 176, 177.)

The story which follows this account
is vulgar, unworthy of Mr. Waierton,
and should have been omitted.

Every animal has his enemies. The
land tortoise has two enemies — ^man,
and the boa constrictor. The natural
defence of the tortoise is to draw him-
self up in his shell» and to remain
quiet. In this state, the tiger, however
famished, can do nothing with him, for
the shell is too strong for the stroke of
his paw. Man, however, takes him
home and roasts him — and the boa
constrictor swallows him whole, shell
and all, and consumes him slowly in
the interior, as the Court of Chancery
does a great estate.

The danger seems to be much less
with snakes and wild beasts, if you
conduct yourself like a gentleman, and
are not abruptly intrusive. If you will
pass on gently, you may walk unhurt
within a yard of the Labairi snake.

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA-

81

who would pnt joa to death if you
r&shed upon him. The ta^uan knocks
you down with a blow of his paw, if
suddenly interrupted, but will run away,
if yon will give him time to do so. In
short, most animals look upon man as a
yery ugly castomer ; and, unless sorely
pressed for food, or from fear of their
own safety, are not fond of attacking
him. Mr. Waterton, though much given
to sentiment, roadeaLabairi snakebite
itself, but no bad consequences ensued
— nor would any bad consequences
ensue, if a court>martial were to order
a shiful soldier to give himself a thou-
sand lashes. It is barely possible that
the snake had some faint idea whom
and what he was biting.

Insects fire the curse of tropical cli-
.mates. The bete rouge lays the foun-
dation of a tremendous ulcer. In a
moment yon are covered with ticks.
Chigoes bury themselves in your flesh,
and hatch a large colony of young
chigoes in a few hours. They will not
live together, but every chigoe sets up
A separate ulcer, and has his own pri-
vate portion of pus. Flies get entry
into your mouth, into your eyes, into
your nose ; you eat flies, drink flics,
and breathe flies. Lizards, cockroaches,
and snakes, get into the bed ; ants eat
up the books ; scorpions sting you on
the foot. Everything bites, stings, or
bruises; every second of your exist-
ence yon are wounded by some piece
of animal life that nobody has ever
seen before, except Swammerdam and
Meriam. An insect with eleven legs
is swimming in your teacup, a nonde-
script with nine wings is struggling in
the small beer, or a caterpillar with
several dozen eyes in his belly is
hastening over the bread and butter!
All nature is alive, and seems to be
gathering all her entomological hosts
to eat you up, as you are standing, out
of your coat, waistcoat, and breeches.
Such are the tropics. All this recon-
ciles us to our dews, fogs, vapours, and
drizzle — to our apothecaries rushing
about with gargles and tinctures — to
our old, British, constitutional coughs,
sore throats, and swelled faces.

We come now to the counterpart of
St. George and the Dragon. Every

VouIL

one knows that the large snake of tro-
pical climates throws himself upon his
prey, twists the folds of his body round
the victim, presses him to death, and
then eats him. Mr. Waterton wanted
a large snake for the sake of his skin ;
and it occurred to him, that the suc-
cess of this sort of combat depended
upon who began first, and that if ho
could contrive to fling himself upon
the snake, he was just as likely to send
the snake to ihe British Museum, as
the snake, if allowed the advantage of
prior occupation, was to eat him up.
The opportunities which Yorkshire
squires have of combating with the
boa constrictor are so few, that Mr.
Waterton must be allowed to tell his
own story in his own manner.

" We went slowly on in silence, without
moving our arms or heads, in order to pro-
vent all alarm as much as possible, lest the
snake should glide off, or attack us in self-
defence. I carried the lance perpendicu-
larly before me, with the point about a foot
from the ground. The snake had net
moved ; and on getting up to him, I struck
him with the lance on the near side, just be-
hind the neck, and pinned himtotheground.
That moment the n<^nro n&fi to me seized
the lanoe and held it firm in its place, while
I dashed head foremost into the den to
grapple with the snake, and to get hold of
his tail before he could do any misohief.

** On pinning him to the ground with the
limce, he gave a tremendous loud hiss, and
the little d(^ ran away, howling as he went.
We had a sharp flray in the den, the rotten
sticks llyii^ on all sides, and each party
struggling for superiority. I called out to
the second negro to throw himself upon
me, as I found I was not heavy enough.
He did so, and the additional weight was of
great service. I had now got firm hold of
his tail ; and after a violent struggle or two,
he gave in, finding himself overpowered.
This was the moment to secure him. So,
while the first negro continued to hold the
lance firm to the ground, and the Qther was
helping me, I contrived to unloose my
braces, and with them tied up the snake's
mouth,

** The snake, now finding himself in an
unpleasant situation, tried to better him-
self, and set resolutely to work, but we
overpowered him. We contrived to make
him twist himself round the shaft of the
lance, and then prepared to convey him out
of the forest. I stood at his head, and held
it firm under my arm, one negro supported

G

^2

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

the belly, and the other the tail. In this
order we b^an to move slowly towards
homo, and reached it after resting ten
times ; for the snake was too heavy for us
to support him without stopping to recruit
our strength. As we proceeded onwards
with him, he fought hard for ft-eedom, but
it was all in vain."~(pp. 202—201.)

One of these combats we should have
thought sufficient for glory, and for the
interests of the British Museum. But
Hercules killed two snakes, and Mr.
Waterton would not be coutent with
less.

"There was a path where timber had
formerly been dnm^ed along. Here I ob-
served a young coulacanara, ten feet long,
slowly moving onwards ; I saw he was not
thidk enough to break my arm, in case he
got twisted round it. There was not a mo-
ment to be lost. I laid hold of his tail with
the left hand, one knee being on the ground ;
with the right I took off my hat, and held
it as you would hold a shield for defence.

" The snake instantly turned, and came
on at me, with his head about a yard fW»m
the ground, as if to ask me what business
I had to take liberties with his taiL I let
him come, hissing and open-mouthed,
within two feet of my fskce, and then, with
all the force I was master of, I drove my
list, shielded by my hat, fUll in his jaws.
He was stunned and confounded by the
blow, and ere he could recover himself, I
had seized his throat with both hands, in
such a position that he could not bite me ;
I then allowed him to coil himself round
my body, and marched off with him as my
lawful prize. He pressed me hard, bat not
alarmingly sa**— (pp. 206, 207.)

When the body of the large snake
began to smell, the vultui-es imme-
diately arrived. The king of the vul-
tures first gorged himself, and then
retired to a large tree while ^his sub-
jects consumed the remainder. It does
not appear that there was any favour-
itism. When the king was full, all the
mob vultures ate alike ; neither could
Mr. Waterton perceive that there was
any division into Catholic and Protes-
tant vultures, or that the majority of
the flock thought it essentially vultur-
ish to exclude one third of their num-
bers from the blood and entrails. The
vulture, it is remarkable, never eats
live animals. He seems to abhor every-
thing which has not the relish of pu-

trescence and flavour of. death. The
following is a characteristic specimen
of the little inconveniences to which
travellers are liable, who sleep on the
feather-beds of tlie forest To see a
rat in a room in Europe insures a night
of horror. Everything is by compa-
rison.

" About midnight, as I was lying awaket
and in great pain, I heard the Indians say,
'Massa^ massa, you no hear tig^?' I lis-
tened attentively, and heard the softly
sounding tread of his feet as he approached
us. The moon had gone down ; but every
now and theu we could get a glance of him
by the light of our fire : he was the jaguar,
for I could see the spots on his body. Had
I wished to have fired at him, I was not
able to take a sure aim, for I was in such
pain that I could not turn myself in my
hammock. The Indian would have fired,
but I would not allow him to do so, as I
wanted to see a Uttle more of our new
visitor; for it is not every day or night
that the traveller is favoured with an un-
disturbed sight of the jaguar in his own
forest.

" Whenever the fire got low, the ja^niar
came a little nearer, and when the Indian
renewed it, he retired abruptly ; sometimes
he would oome within twenty yards, and
then we had a view of him, sitting on his
hind legs Uke a dog; sometimes he moved
slowly to and firo, and at other times we
could hear him mend his pace, as if impa-
tient. At last the Indian, not relishing the
idea of having such company in the neigh-
bourhood, could contain himself no longer,
and set up a most tremendous yell. The
jaguar bounded off like a race-horse, and
returned no more ; it appeared by the print
of his feet the next morning, that He was a
full-grown jaguar"— (pp. 212, 213.)

We have seen Mr. Waterton fling
himself upon a snake ; we shall now
mount him upon a crocodile, under-
taking that this shall be the laist of his
feats exhibited to the reader. He bad
baited for a cayman or crocodile, the
hook was swallowed, and the object
was to pull the animal up and to se-
cure him. ** If you pull him up,** say
(he Indians, ** as soon as he sees you on
the brink of the river, he will run at
you and destroy you.'* " Never mind,"
says our traveller, ** pull away, and
leave the rest to me.*' And accord-
ingly he places himself upon the shore,
with the mast of the canoe in his hand.

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

83

ready to force it down the throat of the
crocodile, as soon as he makes his
appearance.

" By the time the cayman was within two
yards of me, I saw he was in a state of fear
and perturtaafcion ; I instantly dropped the
mast, sprang np, and jumped on his badL.
taming half round as I vaulted, so that I
gained my seat with my face in a right
position. I immediately seized his fore
legs, and, by main force, twisted them on
his back ; thus they served me for a bridle.

** He now seemed to have recovered from
his surprise, and probably fiincying himself
in hostile company, he began to plunge fu-
riously, and lashed the sand with his long
and powerftil tail. I was out of reach of
the strokes of it, by being near his head. He
continued to plunge and strike, and made
my seat very uncomfortable. It must have
been a fine sight for an unoccupied spec-
tator.

** The people roared out in triumph, and
were so Vociferous, that it was some time
before they heard me tell them to pull me
and my beast of burden fturther in land. I
was apprehensive the rope might break,
and then there would have been every
chance of going down to the regions under
water with the cayman. That would have
been more perilous than Arion's marine
morning ride : —

' Belphini insidms, vada cserula sulcat
Arion.*

""The people now dragged us above forty
yards on the sand : it was the first and last
time I was ever on a cayman's back. Should
it be asked, how I managed to keep my seat,
I would answer— I hunted some years with
Lord Darlington's foxhounds."— (pp. 231,
SSL)

The Yorkshire gentlemen have long
been famous for their equestrian skill ;
bat Mr. Waterton is the first among
them of whom it could be said that he
has a fine hand upon a crocodile.
T^is accursed animal, so ridden by
Mr. Waterton, is the scourge and
terror of all the large rivers in South
America near the lane. Their bold^
ness is such* that a cayman has some-
times come out of the Oroonoque, at
Angostura, near the public walks
where the people were assembled,
seized a full-grown man, as big as Sir
William Curtis after dinner, and hur-
ried him into the bed of the river for
his food. The governor of Angustura
witnessed this circnmstance himselC

Our Eboracic traveller had now been
nearl^r eleven months in the desert,
and not in vain. Shall we express our
doubts, or shall we confidently state at
once the immense wealth he had ac-
quired ? — a prodigious variety of in-
sects, two hundred and thirty birds,
ten land-tortoises, five armadillas, two
large serpents, a sloth, an ant-bear,
and a cayman. At Liverpool, the
Custom-house officers, men ignorant
of Linnaeus, got hold of his collection,
detained it six weeks, and, in spite of
remonstrances to the Treasury, he was
forced to paj very high duties. This
is really perfectly absurd ; that a man
of science cannot bring a pickled
armadilla, for a collection of natural
history, without paying a tax for jt.
This surely must have happened in the
dark days of Nicolas. We cannot
doubt but that such paltry exactions
have been swept away by the manly
and liberal policy of Robinson and
Husklsson. That a great people should
compel an individual to make them a
payment before he can be permitted to
land a stuffed snake upon their shores,
is, of all the paltry Custom-house rob-
beries we ever heard of, the most mean
and contemptible — but Major renmi^
ordo nascitur.

The fourth journey of Mr. Waterton
is to the United States. It is pleasantly
written ; but our author does not ap-
pear as much at home among men as
among beasts. Shooting, stuffing, and
pursuing are his occupations. He is
lost in places where there are no
bushes, snakes, nor Indians — but he
is full of good and amiable feeling
wherever he goes. We cannot avoid
introducing the following passage : —

"The steam-boat firom Quebec to Mon-
treal had above five hundred Irish emi-
grants on board. They were going 'they .
hardly knew whither,' far away from dear
Ireland. It made one's heart ache to see
them all huddled together, without any ex-
pectation of ever revisiting their native soil.
We feared that the sorrow of leaving home
for ever, the miserable accommodations on
board the ship which had brought them
away, and the tossing of the angry ocean, in
a long and dreary voyage, would have ren-
dered them callous to good behaviour. But
it was quite otherwise. They conducted

Q 2

SA

GRANBT.

themselves with great propriety. Every
i^xnerican on board seemed to feel for them.
And then, *they were so full of wretched-
ness. Need and oppression stared within
their eyes. Upon their backs bung ragged
misery. The world was not their fHend.'
'Poor dear Ireland,* exclaimed an aged fe»
male, as I was talking to her, ' I shall never
see it any more I ' "^(pp. 259, 260.)

And thus it is in every region of the
earth I There is no country where an
Englishman can set his foot, that he
does not meet these miserable victims
of English cruelty and oppression —
banished from their country by the
stupidity, bigotry, and meanness of the
English people, who trample on their
liberty and conscience, because each
man is afraid, in another reign, of
being out of favour, and losing his
share in the spoil.

We are always glad to see America
praised (slavery excepted). And yet
there is still, we fear, a party in this
country, who are glad to pay their
court to the timid and the feeble, by
sneering at this great spectacle of
human happiness. We never think of
it without considering it as a great
lesson to the people of England, to
look into their own a^airs, to watch
and suspect their rulers, and not to be
defrauded of happiness and money by
pompous names, and false pretences.

"Our western brother is. in possession of
a country replete with everything that can
contribute to the happiness and comfort of
mankind. His code of laws, purified by ex-
perience and opmmon ^nse, has fully an-
swered the expectations of the public. By
acting up to the true spirit of this code, he
has reaped immense advantages from it.
His advancement,' as a nation, has been
rapid beyond all calculation ; and, young as
he is, it may be remarked, without any im-
"propriety, that he is now actually reading a
salutary lesson to the rest of the civilised
world."— (p. 278.)

Now, what shall ve say, after all, of
•Mr. Waterton ? That he has spent a
•great part of his life in wandering in
the wild scenes he describes, and that
he describes them with entertaining
zeal and real feeling. His stories draw
largely sometimes on our faith ; but a
man who lives in the woods of Cayenne
must do many odd things, and see

many odd things — things utterly un-
known to the dwellers in Hackney and
Highgate. We do not want to rein
up Mr, Waterton too tightly — becjinso
we are convinced he goes best with his
bead free. But a little less of apo-
strophe, and some faint suspicion of his
own powers of humour, would im-
prove this gentleman's style. As it i9,
he has a considerable talent at describ-
ing. He abounds with good feeling;
and has written a very entertaining
book, which hurries the reader out of
his European parlour, into the heart of
tropical forests, and gives, over the
rules and the cultivation of the civil-
ised parts of the earth, a momentary
superiority to the freedom of the sav-
age, and the wild beauties of Nature.^
We honestly recommend the book to
our readers : it is well worth the
perusal.

GRANBY. (E. Rijview, 1826.)

Oranby, A Novel in Three Velumea, Lon-
don. Colbum. 1826.

T^ERB is nothing more amusing jn
the spectacles of the present day, than
to see the Sir John's and Sir Thomas's
of the House of Commons struck
aghast by the useful science and wise
novelties of Mr. Huskisson and the
Chancellor of the Exchequer^ Trea-
son, Disaffection, Atheism, Republic-
anism, and Socinianism — the great
guns'in the Noodle's pai'k of artillery
— they cannot bring to bear upon
these gentlemen. Even to charge with
a regiment of ancestors is not quite so
efficacious as it used to be ; and all
that remains, therefore, is to r^il
against Peter M^Culloch and Political
Economy \ In the meantime, day
after day, down goes one piece of
nonsense or another. The most ap-
proved trash, and the most trusty
clamours, are found to be utterly
powerless. Twopenny taunts and
trumpery truisms have lost their des-
tructive omnipotence ; and the ex-
hausted common-placemen, and the
afflicted fool, moan over the ashes of
Imbecility, and strew flowers on. the

GRANBY.

85

TTrn of Ignorance ! General Elliot
found the London tailors in a state
of mutiny, and, he raised from them
a regiment of light cavalry, which
distinguished itself in a very striking
manner at the battle of Minden. In
humble imitation of this example, we
shall avail ourselves of the present
political disaffection and unsatisfac-
tory idleness of many men of rank
and consequence, to request their at-
tention to the Novel of Granby —
written, as we have heard, by a young
gentleman of the name of Lister*,
and from which we have derived a
considerable deal of pleasure and en-
tcrtainment

The main question as to a novel is
— did it amuse ? were you surprised
at dinner coming so soon ? did you
mistake eleven for ten, and twelve for
eleven ? were you too late to dress ?
and did you sit up beyond the usual
hour ? If a novel produces these
effects, it is good j if it does not — >-
story, language, love, scandal itself
cannot save it. It is only meant to
please; and it must do that, or it does
nothing. Now Granby seems to us to
answer this test extremely well ; it
produces unpunctuality, makes the
reader too late for dinner, impatient
of contradiction, and inattentive, —
even if a bishop is making an obser-
vation, or a gentleman, lately from the
Pyramids, or the tipper Cataracts, is let
loose upon the drawing-room. The ob-
jection, indeed, to these compositions,
when they are well done« is, that it is
impossible to do anything, or perform
any human duty, while we are engaged
in them. Who can read Mr. Hallam*s
Middle Ages, or extract the root of an
impossible quantity, or draw up a bond,
when he is in the middle of Mr. Tre-
beck and Lady Charlotte Duncan ?
How can the boy*8 lesson be heard,
about the Jove-nourished Achilles, or
his six miserable verses upon Dido be
corrected, when Henry Granby and
^Ir. Courtenay are both making love
to Miss Jermyn ? Common life palls
in the middle of these artificial scenes.

* This is the gentleman who now keeps
the keys of Life and Death, the Jaoitor of
thelYorld.

All is emotion when the book is open
— ^all dull, flat, and feeble When it is shut.

Granby, a young man of no profies-
sion, living with an old uncle in the
country, falls in love with Miss JermyU)
and Miss Jermyn with him; but Sif
Thomas and Lady Jermyn, as the
young gentleman is not rich, having
discovered, by long living in the world
and patient observation of its ways,
that young people are commonly Mai*
thus-proof and have children, and that
young and old must eat, very naturally
do what they can to discourage the
union. The young people, however^
both go to town — meet at balls —
flutter, blush, look and cannot speak —
speak and cannot look) — suspect, mis*
interpret, ate sad and mad, peevish
and jealous^ fond and foolish ; but the
passion, after all) seems less near to
its accomplishment at the end of the
season than the beginning. The uncle
of Granby, however, dies, and leaves
to his nephew a statement accompanied
with the requisite proofs — that Mr.
Tyrrel, the supposed son of Lord Mal-
ton, is illegitimate, and that he. Gran-'
by, is the heir to Lord Malton's fortune.
The second volume is now far ad van*
ced, and it is time for Lord Malton to
die. Accordingly Mr. Lister very ju-
diciously despatches him ; Granby in*
berits the estate — his Virtues (for what
shows off virtue like land ?) are dis*
covered by the Jermyns — and they
marry in the last act.

Upon this slender story, the author
has succeeded in making a very agree*>
able and interesting novel ; and he has
succeeded) we think, chiefly by the
very easy and natural picture of man-
ners, as they really exist among the
upper classes t by the description of
new characters judiciously drawn and
faithfully preserved ; and by the in-
troduction of many striking and welU
managed incidents ; and we are parti*
cularly struck throughout the whole
with the discretion and good sense of
the author. He is never nimiousf
there is nothing in excess ; there is
a good deal of fancy and a great deal
of spirit at work, btit a directing and
superintending judgment rarely quits
him.

o 3

86

GRANBY.

We would instance, as a proof of
his tact and talent, the visit at Lord
Daventrj's, and the description of
characters of which the party is com-
posed. There are absolutely no events ;
nobody runs away, goes mad, or dies.
There is little of love, or of hatred ;
no great passion comes into play ; but
nothing can be further removed from
dulness and insipidity. Who has ever
lived in the world without often meet-
ing the Miss ClifU>ns ?

" The Miss Cliftons were good-humoured
girls ; not handsome, but of pleasing man-
ners, and sufEldently clever to keep up the
ball of conversation very agreeably for an
occasional half hour. They were alwa(y8 au
eourant du jour, and knew and saw the
first of everything— were in the earliest con-
fidence of many a bride elect, and could fro*
quently tell that a marriage was ' off' long
after it had been announced as ' on the tapis'
in the morning papers— always knew some-
thing of the new opera, or the new Scotch
novel, before anybody else did— were the
first who made fi^^, or acted charades —
contrived to have private views of most ex-
hibitions, and were supposed to have led
the fashionable throng to the Caledonian
Chapel, Cross Street, Hatton Garden. Their
employments were like those of most other
girls : they sang, played, drew, rode, read
occasionally, spoiled much muslin, manu-
factured purses, hflndscareens, and reticules
for a repository, and transcribed a consider-
able quantity of music out of large fair print
into diminutive manuscript.

" Miss Clifton was clever and accomplish-
ed; rather cold, but very conversible; col-
lected seals, fhtnks, and anecdotes of the
day; and was a great retailer of the latter.
Anne was odd and entertaining ; was a for-
midable quizzer, and no mean caricaturist;
liked fun in most shapes ; Mid next to mak-
ing people laugh, had rather they stared at
what she said. Maria was the echo of the
other two : vouched for all Miss Clifton's
anecdotes, and led the laugh at Anne's re-
pfui«C8. They wer6 plain, and th^ knew
it ; and cared less about it than young ladies
usually do. Their plainness, however, would
have been less striking, but for that hard,
pale, parboiled town look,— that stamp of
fashion, with which late hours and hot
rooms generally endow the female face."—
(pp. 103--105.)

Having introduced our reader to the
Miss Cliftons, we must make him ac-
quainted with Mr. Trebeck, oiie of
those universally appearing gentlemen

and tremendous 'table tyrants, by
whom London society is so frequently
governed : —

" Mr. Trebeck had great powers of enter-
tainment, and a keen and lively turn for
satire ; and could talk down his superiors,
whether in rank or talent, with v&ry im-
posing oonfldenceu He saw the advantages
of being formidable, and observed with de-
rision how those whose malignity he pam-
pered with ridicule of others, vainly thought
to purchase by subserviency exemption for
themselves. He had sounded the gullibility
of the world; knew the precise current
value of pretension ; and soon found him-
self the acknowledged umpire, the last ap-
peal, of many contented followers.

" He seldom committed himself by pnuse
or recommendation, but rather left his ex-
ample and adoption to work its way. As for
censure, he had both ample and witty stOre ;
but here too he often husbanded his re-
marks, and where it was needless or dan-
gerous to define a fiEMilt, could check
admiration by an incredulous smile, and de-
press pretensions of a season's standing by
the raisii^ of an eyebrow. He had a quick
perception of the foibles of others, and a
keen relish for banteringand exposing them.
No keeper of a menagerie could better show
off a monkey than he could an 'original.'
He could ingeniously cause the unconscious
subject to place his own absurdities in the
best point of view, and would cloak his d»>
rision under the blandest cajolery. Imita-
tors he loved much; but to baffle them—
more. He loved to turn upon the luckless
adopters of his last folly, and see them pre-
cipitately back out of the scrape into which
he himself had led them.

" In the art of cutting he shone unrivalled;
he knew the 'when,' the 'where,' and the
'how.* Without affecting useless short-
sightedness, he could assume that calm but
wandering gaze, which veers, as if uncon-
sciously, round the proscribed individual ;
neither fixing, nor to be fixed ; not looking
on vacBMcy, nor on any one object ; neither
occupied nor abstracted ; a look which per^
haps excuses you ^ the person cut, and, at
any rate, prevents him fh>m aocostii^ you.
Originality was his idol. He wished to as-
tonish, even if he did not amuse ; and had
rather say » silly thing than a common-
place one. He was led by this sometimes
even to approach the verge of rudeness and
vulgarity; but he had considerable tact, and
a happy hardihood, which generally carried
him through the difficulties into which his
fearless love of originality brought him.
Indeed, he well knew that what would, in
the present condition of hi^ reputation, be

GRANBT.

87

scouted in anybody else, would pass current
with the world in him. Sudi was the for-
fomed and redoubtable Mr. Trebeck."—
(pp. 109—112.)

This sketch we think exceedingly
clever. But we are not sure that its
merit is fully sustained by the actual
presentment of its subject* He makes
his debut at dinner very characteristi-
cally, by gliding in quietly after it is
half over ; but in the dialogue which
follows with Miss Jerniyn, he seems to
us a little too resolutely witty, and
somewhat affectedly odd — though the
whole scene is executed with spirit and
talent.

" The Duk^ had been discoursing on cook-
ery, when Mr. Trebeck turned to her, and
asked in a low tone if she had ever met the
Duke before—* I assure you/ said he, * that
upon that subject he is well worth attend-
ing to. He is supposed to possess more
true science than any amateur of his day.
"By the by, what is the dish before you P It
looks well, and I see you are eating some of
it. Let me recommend it to him upon your
authority ; I dw^ not upon my own.* — * Then
pray do not use mine.'— * Yes I will, with
your permission ; 111 tell him you thought,
by what dropped from him in conversation,
that it would exactly suit the genius of his
taste. Shi^l IP Yes.— Duke,' (raising his
voice a little, and speaking across the table,)
— * Oh, no ; how can you P *—* Why not P—
Ihike,' (with a glance at Caroline,) 'will
you allow me to take wine with youP*— * I
thought,' said she, relieved from, her trepi-
dation, and laughing slightly, 'you would
never say anything so very strange.' — * You
have too good an opinion of me ; I blush
for my unworthiness. But confess, that iu
fiftct you were rather alarmed at the idea of
being held up to such a critic as the reoom-
mender of a bad dish.' — * Oh no, I was not
thinking of that; but I hardly know the
Duke; and it would have seemed so odd;
and perhaps he might have thought that I
had really told you to say something of that
kind.*—* Of course he would ; but you must
not suppose that he would have been at all
surprised at it. I'm afraid you are not
aware of the full extent of your privileges,
and are not conscious how many things
young ladies can, and may, and will do.*—
' Indeed I am not — perhaps you will instruct
me.' — 'Ah, I never do that for anybody. I
like to see young ladies instruct themselves.
It is better for them, and much more amus-
ing to me. But, however, for once I will
venture to tell you, that a very competent

knowledge of the duties of women may,
with proper attention, be picked up in a
ball room.'— * Then I hope,' said she, laugh-
ing, ' you will attribute my deficiency to my
little experience of balls. I have only been
at two.'— 'Only two I and one of them I
suppose a race ball. Then you have not yet
experienced any of the pleasures of a Lon-
don season P Never had the dear delight of
seeing and being seen, in a well of tall peo-
ple at a rout, or passed a pleasant hour at
a ball upon a staircase P I envy you. Yon
have much to enjoy.'— * You do not mean
that I really have P *— * Yes—really. But let
me give you a caution or two. Never dance
with any man without first knowing his
character and condition, on the word of
two credible chaperons. At balls, too, con-
sider what you come for— tadance, of course,
and not to converse; therefore, never talk
yourself, nor encourage it in others.*—* I'm
afraid I can only answer for myself.'—* Why,
if foolish, well-meaning people will choose
to be entertaining, I question if you have
the power of fh>wning them down in a very
forbidding manner ; but 1 would give them
no countenance nevertheless.*— ' Your ad-
vice seems a little ironicaL'- * Oh, you may
either follow it or reverse it— that is its
chief beauty. It is equally good taken either
way.' After a slight pause he continued —
* I hope you do not sing, or play, or draw, or
do anything that everybody else does.'—* I
am obliged to confess that I do a little -
very little— in each,*— * I understand your
'*very little;" I'm afraid you are accom-
plished.'-' You need have no fear of that.
But why are you an enemy to all aocomi
plishmentsP'— *AllaccompUshments? Nay,
surely, you do not think me an enemy to
all P What can you possibly take me for P '
— * I do not know,' said she, laughing slight-
ly.— 'Yes, I see you do not know exactly
what to make of me— and you are not with-
out yom* apprehensions. I can perceive
that, though you try to conceal them.— But
never mind. I am a safe person to sit near
—sometimes. I am to-day. This is one of
my lucid intervals. I'm much better, thanks
to my keeper. There he is, on the other side
of the table —the tall man in black,' (point-
ing out Mr. Bennet,) 'a highly respectable
kind of person. I came with him here for
cliange of air. How do you think I look at
present P '—Caroline could not answer him
for laughing.—* Nay,* siud he, ' it is cruel to
laugh on such a subject. It is very hard
that you should do that, and misrepresent
my meaning too.*— 'Well then,* said Caro-
line, resuming a respectable portion of gra-
vity, * that I may not be guilty of that again,
what accomplishments do you allow to be
tolerable P*-^' Let me see,* sud he, with a

G 4

s%

GRANBT.

look of consideration; 'yon may play a
'wallz with one hand, and dance as little as
you think convenient. You may draw cari-
catures of your intimate friends. You may
not sing a note of Rossini ; nor sketch gate-
posts and donkeys after nature. You may
sit to a harp, but you need not play it. You
must not paint miniatures nor copy Swiss
costumes. But you may manufacture any-
thing—from a cap down to ft pair of shoes
— always remembering that the less useful
your work the better. Can you remember
all this?*— '1 do not know,' said she, 'it
comprehends so much; and I am rather
puzzled between the "mays" and "must
nets." However, it seems, according to your
code, that very little is to be required of
-me; for you have not mentioned anything
that I positively must do.*— *Ah, well, I can
reduce all to a veiy small compass. You
must be an archeress in the summer, and a
skater in the winter, and play well at billi-
ards all the year; and if you do these ex-
tremely well, my admiration will have no
bounds.*—' I believe I must forfeit all claim
to your admiration then, for unfortunately
I am not so giffced.* — 'Then you must place
it to the account of your other gifts.*—
* Certainly— when it comes.*—* Oh I it is
sure to come, as you well know : but, never-
theless, 1 like that incredulous look ex-
tremely.*— He then turned away, thinking
probably that he had paid her the compli-
ment of sufficient attention, and began a
conversation with the Duchess, which was
carried on in such a well-regulated under*
tone, as to be perfectly inaudible to any but
themselves.**— (pp. 92—99.)

The bustling importance of Sir
ThomaB Jermyn, the fat Duke, and
his right-hand man the blunt toad-
eater, Mr. Charlecote, a loud noisy
t-portsman, and Lady Jermyn's worldly
prudence, are all displayed and man-
aged with considerable skill and great
l^ower of amusing. One little sin
against good taste our author some-
times commits — an error from which
Sir Walter Scott is not exempt. We
mean the humour of giving character-
istic names to persons and places ; for
instance, Sir Thomas Jermyn is Mem-
ber of Parliament for the town of
Rottcnborough. This very easy and
appellative jocularity seems to us, we
confess, to savour a little of vulgarity;
and is therefore quite as unworthy of
Mr. Lister, as Dr. Dryasdust is of Sir
Walter Scott. The plainest names
which can be found (Smith, Thomson,

Johnson, and Simson, always excepted),
are the best for novels. Lord Chester-
ton we have often met with ; and suf-
fered a good deal from his Lordship :
a heavy, pompous, meddling peer,
occupying a great share of the con-
versation — saying things in ten words
which required only two, and evidently
convinced that he is making a great
impression ; a large man, with a large
head, and very lauded nianner; know-
ing enough to torment his fellow-
creatures, not to instruct them — the
ridicnle of young ladies, and tlie
natural bntt and target of wit. It
is easy to talk of carnivorous animals
and beasts of prey ; but does such a
man, who lays waste a whole party
of civilised beings by prosing, reflect
npon the joys he spoils, and the misery
he creates in the course of his life ? *
and that any one who listens to him
through politeness, would prefer tooth-
ache or earache to his conversation ?
Does he consider the extreme uneasi-
ness which ensues, when the company
have discovered a man to be an ex-
tremely absurd person, at the same
time that it is absolutely impossible to
convey, by words or manner, the most
distant suspicion of the discovery ?
And then, who punishes this bore ?
What sessions and what assizes for
him ? What bill is found against
him ? Who indicts him ? When the
judges have gone their vernal and
antumnal rounds — the sheep-stealer
disappears — the swindler gets ready
for the Bay — the solid parts of the
murderer are preserved in anatomical
collections. But, after twenty years
of crime, the bore is •discoVered in the
same house, in the same attitude, eat-
ing the same soup — unpunished, un-
tried, undissected — no scaffold, no
skeleton — no mob of gentlemen and
ladies to gape over his last dying speech
and confession.

The scene of quizzing the country
neighbours is well imagined, and not
ill executed ; though there are many
more fortunate passages in the book.
The elderly widows of the metropolis
beg, through us, to return their thanks
to Mr. Lister for the following agree-
able portrait of Mrs. Dormer.

GRANBT.

8d

** It would be difficult to find a more pleas-
ing example than Mrs. Dormer, of that much
libelled class of elderly ladies of the world,
who are presumed to be happy only at the
card table; to grow iu bitterness as th^y
advance in years, and to haunt, like restless
ghosts, those busy circles which they no
longer either enliven or adorn. Such there
may be ; but of these she was not oue. She
was the frequenter of society, but not its
slave. She had great natural benevolence
of disposition ; a friendly vivacity of man-
ners, which endeared her to the young, and
a steady good sense, which commanded the
respect of her contemporaries ; and many,
who did not agree with her on particular
points, were willing to allow that there was
a good deal of reason in Mrs. Dormer's pre-
jvdices. She was, perhaps, a little blind to
the faults of her friends ; a defect of which
the world could not cure her ; but she was
very kind to their virtues. She was fond of
youi^ people, and had an unimpaired gaiety
about her, which seemed to exi)8nd in the
contact with them ; and she was anxious to
promote, for their sake, even those amuse-
ments for which she had lost all taste her-
self. She was — but after all, she will be
best described by n^atives. She was not a
match-maker, or mischief-maker; nor did
«he plume herself upon her charity, in im-
plicitly believing only just half of what the
vorld says. She was no retailer of scanda-
lous ' an dUs* She did not combat wrinkles
with rouge ; nor did she labour to render
years less respected by a miserable affecta-
tion of girlish fashions. She did not stickle
for the inviolable exclusiveness of certain
sects; nor was she aftaid of being known
to visit a friend in an unfashionable quarter
of the town. She was no worshipper of
mere rank. She did not patronise oddities;
nor sanction those who delight in braving
the rules of common decency. She did not
evince her sense of propriety, by shaking
lumds with the recent defendant in aCrim.
(^on. cause ;^ nor exhale her devotion in
Sonday routs."-~(pp. 248, 244.)

Mrs. Clot worthy, we are afraid, will
not be quite so well pleased with the
description of her rout. Mrs. Clot-
worthy is one of those ladies who have
ices, fiddlers, and fine rooms, but no
fine friends. But fine friends may
always be had, where there are ices,
fiddlers, and fine rooms : and so, with
ten or a dozen stars and an Oonalaska
chief, and followed by all vicious and
salient London, Mrs. Clotwortby takes
the field.

"The poor woman seemed half dead with
fatigue alreftdy ; and we cuinot venture to
say whether the prospect of five hours
more of this high-wrought enjoyment tend-
ed much to brace her to the task. It was a
brilliant sight, and an interesting one, if it
could have been viewed firom some fair van-
tage ground, with ample space, in coolness
and in quiet. Eank, beauty, and splendour,
were richly blended; The gay attire; the
glittering jewels; the more resplendent
features they adorned, and too frequently
the rouged cheek of the sexagenarian : the
vigilant chaperon; the f^ but hmguid
form which she conducted; weU curled
heads, well propped with starch; well
whiskered guardsmen I and here and there
fat good-humoured elderly gentlemen, with
stars upon their coats ;— all these united in
one close medley— a curious piece of living
mosaic. Most of them came to see and be
seen; some of the most youthfid professedly
to dance ; yet how could they ? at any rate
they tried.— They stood, if they could, with
their vis-Arvis facing them,— and sidled
across— and back again and made one step,
— or two if there was room, to the right or
left, and joined hands and set— perhaps,
and turned their partners, or dispensed
with it if necessary— and so on to the end
of ' La Finale ;' and then comes a waltz for
the few who choose it— and then another
squeezy quadrille— and so on— and on, till
the weary many 'leave ample room and
verge enough* for the persevering few to
figure in with greater freedom.

"But then they talk; oh! ay I true we
must not forget the charms of conversation.
And what passes between nine-tenths of
them I Bemarks on the heat of the room ;
the state of the crowd; the impossibility of
dancing, and the propriety nevertheless of
attempting it ; that on last Wednesday was
a bad Almack's, and on Thursday a worse
Opera; that the new ballet is supposed to
be good; mutual inquiries how they like
Pasta, or Catalan!, or whoever the syren of
the day may be ; whether they have been
at Lady A.'s, and whether they are going to
Mrs. B.'s ; whether they think Miss Such-a-
one handsome; and what is the name of
the gentleman talking to her; whether
Bossini's music makes the best quadrilles,
and whether GoUinet's band are the best to
play them. There are many who pay in
better coin ; but the small change is much
of this description."— (Vol. L pp. 249—261.)

We consider the following descrip-
tion of London, as.it appears to a
person walking home after a rout, at
four or five o'clock in the morning, to
be as poetical as anything written on

do

GBANBT.

the forests of Guiana, or the falls of
Niagara: —

"Granby followed them with bis eyes;
and now, too fall of happiness to be acces-
sible to any feelings of jealousy or repining,
after a short reverie of the purest 8a4;isfac-
tion, he left the ball, and sallied out into
the fresh cool air of a summer morning —
suddenly passing from the red glare of lamp-
light, to the clear sober brightness of return-
ing day. He walked cheerfully onward, re-
freshed and exhilarated by the air of morn-
ing, and interested with the scene around
him. It was broad day-light, and he view-
ed the tdwn under an aspect in which it is
alike presented to the late retiring votary
of pleasure, and to the early rising sons of
business. He stopped on the pavement ot
Oxford Street, to contemplate the effect.
The whole extent of that long vista, un-
clouded by the mid-day smoke, was dis-
tinctly visible to his eye at once. The
houses shrunk to half their span, while the
few visible spires of the adjacent churches
seemed to rise less distant than before,
gaily tipped with early sunshine, and much
diminished in apparent size, but heightened
in distinctness and in beauty. Had it not
been for the cool grey tint which slightly
mingled with every object, the brightness
was almost that of noon. But the life, the
bustle, the busy din, the flowing tide of
human existence, were all wanting to com-
plete the similitude. All was hushed and
silent ; and this mighty receptacle of human
beings, which a few short hours would wake
into active energy and motion, seemed like
a city of the dead.

*' There was little to break this solemn
illusion. Around were the monuments of
human exertion, but the hands which form-
ed them were no longer there. Few, if any,
were the symptoms of life. No sounds
were heard but the heavy creaking of a
solitary waggon ; the twittering of an occa-
sional sparrow; the monotonous tone of
the drowsy watchman; and the distant
rattle of the retiring carriage, fading on
the ear till it melted into silence; and -the
eye that searched for living objects fell on
nothing but the grim great-coated guardian
of the night, muffled up into an appearance
of doubtfid character between bear and
man, and scarcely distinguishable, by the
colour of his dress, from the brown flags
along which he sauntered."— (pp. 297—299.)

One of the most prominent charac-
ters of the book, and the best drawn,
is that of Tyrrel, son of Lord Malton,
a noble blackleg, a titled gamester, and
a profound plotting villain — a man,

in comparison of whom nine-tenths of
the persons hung in Newgate are pure
and perfect The profound dissimu-
lation and wicked artifices of this
diabolical person are painted with
great energy and power of description.
The party at whist made to take in
Granby is very good, and that part
of the story where Granby compels
Tyrrel to refnnd what he has won of
Courtcnay is of first-rate dramatic ex-
cellence; and if any one wishes for a
short and convincing proof of the
powers of the writer of this novel —
to that scene we refer him. It shall
be the taster of the cheese, and we are
.convinced it will sell the whole article.
We.are so much struck with it that we
advise the author to consider seriously
whether he could not write a good play.
It is many years since a good play has
been written. It is about time, judg^
ing from the common economy of
nature, that a good dramatic writer
should appear. We promise Mr. Lister
sincerely, that the Edinburgh Review
shall rapidly undeceive him if he mis-
take his talents : and that his delusion
shall not last beyond the first tragedy
or comedy.

The picture at the exhibition is ex-
tremely well managed, and all the
various love-tricks of attempting to
appear indifferent, are, as well as we
can remember, from the life. But
it is thirty or forty years since we
have been in love.

The horror of an affectionate and
dexterous mamma is a handsome young
man without money ; and the follow-
ing lecture deserves to be committed
to memory by all managing mothers,
and repeated at proper intervals to the
female progeny.

" * True, my love, but understand me. I
don't wish you positively to avoid him. I
would hot go away, for instance, if I saw
him coming, or even turn my hecid that I
might not see him as he passed. That
would be too broad and marked. People
might notice it. It would look particular^
We should never do anything that looks
particiUar. No, I would answer him
civilly and composedly whenever he spoke
to me, and then 'j^ubs on, just as you might
in the case of anybody else. But I leave all
this to your own tact and discretion, of

GBANBT.

91

which nohody hasiCGfre for her age. I am
sure you can enter into all these niceties,
and that my observations will not be lost
upon you. And now, my love, let me men-
tion another thing. Yoa must get over
that little embarrassment which I see you
show whenever you meet him. It was very
natural and excusable the first time, con-
sidering our long acquaintance with him
and the General : but we must make our
conduct conform to circumstances ; so try
to get the better of this Ijttle flutter: it
does not look well, and might be observed.
There is no quality more valuable in a
young person than self-possession. So you
must keep down these blushes,' said she,
patting her on the cheek, 'or 1 believe I
must rouge you: — though it would be a
thousand pities, with the pretty natural
colour you have. But you must remember
what I have been saying. Be more com-
posed in your behaviour. Try to adopt the
manner which I do. It may be difficult ;
but you see I contrive it, and I have known
Mr. Granby a great deal longer than you
have, Caroline.' * '— (pp. 21, 22.)

These principles are of the highest
practical importance in an age when
the art of marrying daughters is
carried to the highest piteh of excel-
lence, when lovd must be made to the
young men of fortune, not only by the
young lady, who must appear to be
dying for him, but by the father,
mother, aunts, cousins, tutor, game-
keeper, and stable boy — assisted by
the parson of the parish, and the
churchwardens. If any of these fail.
Dives pouts, and the match is off.

The merit of this writer is, that he
catches delicate portraits which a less
skilful artist would pass over, from
not thinking: the features sufficiently
marked. We are struck, however,
with the resemblance, and are pleased
with the conquest of difficulties — we
remember to have seen such faces,
and are sensible that they form an
agreeable variety to the expression of
more marked and decided character.
Nobody, for instance, can deny that he
is acquainted with Miss Darrell.

"HIh Barrell was not strictly a beauty.
She had not, as was frequently observed by
her female friends, and unwillingly ad-
mitted by her male admirers, a single truly
Rood feature in her face. But who could
quarrel with the tout ensemble? who but
must be dazzled with the graceful animar

tion with which those features wete lighted
up P Let critics hesitate to pronounce her
beautiftil ; at any rate they must allow her
to be fSAScinating. Place her a perfect
stranger in a crowded assembly, and she
would first attract his eye ; correcter beau-
ties would pass unnoticed, and his first
attention would be riveted by her. She
was all brilliancy and eflSect ; but it were
hard to say she studied it ; so little did her
spontaneous, airy graces convey the im-
pression of premeditated practice. She
was a sparkling tissue of little affectations,
which, however, appeared so interwoven
with herself, that their seeming artlessness
disarmed one's censure. Strip them away,
and you destroyed at once the brilliant
being that so much attracted you ; and it
thus became difficult to condemn what you
felt unable, and, indeed, unwilling, to re-
move. Tfith positive affectation, malevo-
lence itself could rarely charge her; and
prudish censure seldom exceeded the
guarded limits of a diy remark, that Miss
Darrell had 'a good deal of mamier.'

** £clat she sought, and gained. Indeed,
she was both formed to gain it, and dis-
posed to desire it. But she required an
extensive sphere. A ball-rnom was her true
arena: for she waltzed *a raoir* and could
talk enchantingly about nothing. She wan
devoted to fashion, and all its ficklenesses,
and went to the extreme whenever she
could do so consistently with grace. But
she aspired to be a leader as well as a fol-
lower ; seldom, if ever, adopted a mode that
was unbecoming to herself, and dressed to
suit the genius of her face."— (pp. 28, 29.)

Tremendous is the power of a no-
velist ! If four or five men are in a
room, and show a disposition to break
the peace, no human magistrate (not
even Mr. Justice Bayley) could do more
than bind them over to keep the peace,
and commit them if they refused. But
the writer of the novel stands with a
pen in his hand, and can run any of
them through the body — can knock
down any one individual, and keep
the others upon their legs ; or, like the
last scene in the first tragedy written
by a young man of genius, can put
them all to death. Now, an author
possessing such extraordinary privi-
leges, should not have allowed Mr.
Tyrrel to strike Granby. This is ill
managed ; particularly as Granby does
not return the blow, or turn him out
of the house. Nobody should suffer
his hero to have a black eye, or Ui be

92

pnlled by the nose. The Iliad would
never have come down to these times
if Agamemnon had f^Wen Achilles a
box on the ear. We should have
trembled for the JEneid if any Tyrian
nobleman had kicked the pious ^neas,
in the 4th book, ^neas may have
deserved it; but he could not have
founded the Roman Empire after so
distressing an accident

HAMFLTON'S METHOD OF

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

(E. Review, 1826.)

1. The Oospel qfSt. Johnt in Latin, tuU^fOed
to the HamUUmian System, by an Analy-
tical and Jnterlineary Translation. Ex-
ecuted under the immediate Direction of
James Hamilton. London. 1824

2. The Oospel qf St John, adapted to the
Jlamiltonian System, by an Analytical
and Interlineary Translation from the
Italian, with fuU Instructions for its
use, even by those who are wholly igno-
rant cf the Language, For the Use of
Schools. By James Hamilton, Author of
the Hamiltonian System. London. 1825.

We have nothing whatever to do with
Mr. Hamilton personally. He may be
the wisest or the weakest of men ;
most dexterous or most unsuccessful in
the exhibition of his system $ modest
and proper, or prurient and prepos-
terous in its commendation ; — by none
of these considerations is his system
itself affected.

The proprietor of Ching*s Lozenges
must necessarily have recourse to a
newspaper to rescue from oblivion the
merit of his vermifuge medicines. In
the same manner, the Amboyna tooth-
powder must depend upon the Herald
and the Morning Post Unfortunately,
the system of Mr. Hamilton has been
introduced, to the world by the same
means, and has exposed itself to those
Fuspicions which hover over splendid
discoveries' of genius detailed in the
daily papers, and sold in sealed boxes
at an infinite diversity of prices — but
with a perpetual inclusion of the
stamp, and with an equitable discount
for undelayed payment.

It may have been necessary for Mr.

HAMILTON'S METHOD OF

Hamilton to have had recourse to
these means of making known his dis-
coveries ; since he may not have had
friends whose names and authority
miglit have attracted the notice of the
public ) but it is a misfortune to
which ^is system has been subjected,
and a difficulty which it has still to
overcome. There is also a singular
and somewhat ludicrous condition of
giving warranted lessons; by which is
^meant, we presume, that the money is
to be returned if the progress is not
made. We should be curious to know
how poor Mr. Hamilton would protect
himself from some swindling scholars,
who, having really learnt all that the
master professed to teach, should coun-
terfeit the grossest ignorance of the
Gospel of St. John, and refuse to
construe a single verse, or to pay a
farthing.

Whether Mr. Hamilton's translations
are good or bad is not the question.
The point to determine is, whether
very close interlineal translations are
helps in learning a language ? not
whether Mr. Hamilton has executed
these translations faithfully and judi-
ciously. Whether Mr. Hamilton is or
is not the inventor of the system
which bears his name, and what his
claims to originality may be, are also
questions of very second-rate import-
ance ; but they merit a few obser-
vations. That man is not the disco •
verer of any art who first says the
thing ; but he who says it so long,
and so loud, and so clearly, that he
compels mankind to hear him — the
man who is so deeply impressed with
the importance of the discovery, that
he will take no denial : but, at the
risk of fortune and fame, pushes
through all opposition, and is deter-
mined that what he thinks he has
discovered shall not perish for want
of a fair trial. Other persons had
noticed the effect of coal gas in pro-
ducing light ; but Winsor worried the
town with bad English for three win-
ters before he could attract any serious
attention to his views. Many persons
broke stone before Macadam ; but
Macadam felt the discovery more
strongly, stated it more clearly, per-

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

severed in it with greater tenacity, —
wielded his hammer, in short, with
greater force then other men, and
finally succeeded in bringing his plan
into general use.

Literal translations are not only not
used m our public schools, but are ge-
nerally discountenanced in them. A
literal translation, or any translation
of a school-boot;, is a contraband
article in English schools, which a
schoolmaster would instantly seize, as
a Custom-house officer would a barrel
of gin. Mr. Hamilton, on the other
hand, maintains, by books and lectures,
that all boys ought to be allowed to
work with literal translations, and that
it is by far the best method of learning
a language. If Mr. Hamilton's system
is just, it is sad trifling to deny his
claim to originality, by stating that
Mr. Locke has said the same thing, or
that others have said the same thing,
a century earlier than Hamilton.
They have all said it so feebly, that
their observations have passed sub
silentio ; and if Mr. Hamilton succeeds
in being heard and followed, to him
be the glory — because from hinj
have proceeded the utility and the
advantage.

The works upon this subject on this
plan published before the time of Mr.
Hamilton are, Montanus's edition of
the Bible, with Pignini's interlineary
Latm version ; Lubin's New Testa-
ment, having the Greek interlined with
lAtin and German ; Abbe L*01ivet's
Pensees de Ciceron; and a French
work by the Abbe Radonvilliers, Paris,
1768 — and Locke upon Education.

One of the first principles of Mr.
Hamilton is, to introduce very strict
literal interlinear translations, as aids
to lexicons and dictionaries, and to
make so much use of them as that the
dictionary or lexicon will be for a long
time little required. We will suppose
the language to be the Italian, and the
hook selected to be the Gospel of St.
John. Of this Gospel Mr. Hamilton
has published a key, of which the
following is an extract: —

nj^Nel prindpio era il Verbo, e
Xn the beginning was the Word, atid

93

11 Verbo era appresso Die, e il Verbo
the Word ioae near to God, and the Word
era Die.
ioas Ood,
««2. Qucal^o era nel principio appresso
Thit ioas in the beginning near to
Dio.
God,
€t^ Per mezzo di lui tutte le cose Airon
* By means qfhim all the things were
fatte; e senza di lui nulla fU fatto
made: and without of himnothingwasmado
di ciO, che b stata fiitto.
qfthat, of which is been made.
<f^ la lui era la vita^ e la vita
In him was the life, and the life
era la luce d^li«omini:
was the light cf the men :
Mg^ E la luoesplende tra le tene-
' And the light shines among the dark-
bre, e le tenebre hanno non ammessa
nesSt and tJte darknesses Jmvs not admitted
la.
Tier,
t*Q^ Vi fti un uomo mandate da Dio
There was a man sent by God
che nomava si Giovanni
wJia did name himself John.
*.y^ Questi venne qual testimone, affin
This came like as witness in order
di rendere testimonianza alia luce, onde
of to render testimony to the light, whence
per mezzo di lui tutti credessero."
by mean qfhim all might believe,**

In this way Mr, Hamilton contends
(and appears to us to contend justly),
that the language may be acquired
with much greater ease and despatch
than by the ancient method of begin-
ning with grammar and proceeding
with the dictionary. We will presume,
at present, that the only object is to
read, not to write or speak, Italian ;
and that the pupil instructs himself
from the Key, without a master, and is
not taught in a class. We wish to
compare the plan of finding the Eng-
lish word in such a literal translation to
that of finding it in dictionaries — and
the method of ending with grammar,
or of taking the grammar at an
advanced period of knowledge in the
language, rather than at the beginning.
Every one will admit that ofall the dis-
gusting labours of life, the labour of
lexicon and dictionary is the most
intolerable. Nor is there a greater ob-
ject of compassion than a fine boy, full
of animal spirits, set down in a bright

94

HAMILTON'S METHOD OP

gunny day, with a heap of unknown
words before him to be turned into
English, before supper, by the help of
a ponderous dictionary alone. The
object in -looking into a dictionary can
only be to exchange an unknown
sound for one that is known. Now it
seems indisputable, that the sooner this
exchange is made the better. The
greater the number of such exchanges
which can be made in a given time,
the greater is the progress, the more
abundant the copia verborum obtained
by the scholar. Would it not be of
advantage if the diotionary at once
opened at the required page, and if a
self-moving index at once pointed to
the requisite word ? Is any advantage
gained to the world by the time em-
ployed first in finding the letter P, and
then in finding the three guiding let-
ters FBI? This appears to ns to be
pure loss of time, justifiable only if it
be inevitable : and even after this is
done, what an infinite multitude of
difficulties are heaped at once upon the
wretched beginner ! Instead of being
reserved for his greater skill and matu-
rity in the language, he must employ
himself in discovering in which of many
senses which his dictionary presents
the word is to be used ; in consider-
ing the case of the substantive, and
the syntaxical arrangement in which
it is to be placed, and the relation it
bears to other words. The loss of time
in the merely mechanical part of the
old plan is immense. We doubt very
much, if an average boy, between ten
and fourteen, will look out or find more
than sixty words in an hour ; we say
nothing, at present, of the time em*
ployed in thinking of the meaning of
each word when he has found it, but
of the mere naked discovery of the
word in the lexicon or dictionary. It
must be remembered, we say an
average boy — not what Master Evans,
the show-boy, can do ; nor what
Master Macarthy, the boy who is
whipt every day can do ; but some boy
between Macsuthy and Evans : and
not what this medium boy can do
while his mastigophorous superior is
frowning oyer him, but what he ac-
tually does when left in the midst of

noisy boys, and with a recollAtion that
by sending to the neighbouring shop,
he can obtain any quantity of unripe
gooseberries upon credit. Now, if this
statement be true, and if there are
10,000 words in the Gospel of St. John,
here are 160 hours employed in the
mere digital process of turning over
leaves ! But in much less time than
this, any boy of average quickness
might learn, by the Hamiltonian
method, to construe the whole four
Gospels, with the greatest accuracy
and the most scrupulous correctness.
The interlineal translation, of course,
spares the trouble and time of this me-
chanical labour. Immediately under
the Italito word is placed the English
word. The unknown sound therefore
is instantly exchanged for one that is
known. The labour here spared is of
the most irksome nature, and it is
spared at a time of life the most averse
to such labour ; and so painful is this
labour to many boys, that it forms an
insuperable obstacle to their progress:
they prefer to be flogged, or to be sent
to sea. It is useless to say of any
medicine that it is valuable, if it is so
nauseous that the patient flings it
away. You must give me, not the
best medicine you have in your shop,
but the best you can get me to take.

We have hitherto been occupied
with finding the word ; we will now
suppose, after running a dirty finger
down many columns, and after many
sighs and groans, that the word is
found. We presume the little fellow
working in the true orthodox manner,
without any translation : he is in pur-
suit of the Greek word BoAAv, and
after a long chase, seizes it, as greedily
as a bailiff possesses himself of a fuga-
cious captain. But, alas I the vanity of
human wishes ! —the neyer-sufficiently-
to-be-pitied stripling has scarcely con-
gratulated himself upon his success,
when he finds BoAAo) to contain the
following meanings in Hederick's
Lexicon : — 1. Jacio ; 2. Jaculor ; 3.
Ferio ; 4. Figo ; 5. Saucio ; 6. At-
tingo ; 7. Projicio ; 8. Emit-to ; 9.
Prof undo ; 10. Pono ; 11. Immitto ;
12. Trado; 13. Committo ; 14. Condo ;
15. .^difico ; 16. Veiso ; 17. Electa

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

95

Suppose the little rogue, not quite at
home in the Latin tongue, to be desi-
roos of affixing English significations
to these yarious words, he has then,
at the moderate rate of six meanings
to eveiy Latin word, one hundred and
two meanings to the word BaAAw ! or,
if he is content with the Latin, he has
then only seventeen.*

Words, in their origin, have a na-
tural or primary sense. The acci-
dental associations of the people who
use it, afterwards give to that word a
great number of secondary meanings.
In some words the primary meaning
is very common, and the secondary
meaning very rare. In other instances
it is just the reverse ; and in very
many the particular secondary mean-
ing is ppinted out by some proposition
which accompanies it, or some case by
which it is accompanied. Bat an ac-
curate translation points these things
oat gradually as its proceeds. The
common and most probable meanings
of the word BizXAw, or of any other
yord, are, in the Hamiltonian method,
insensibly but surely fixed on the
mind, which, by the lexicon method,
must be done by a tentative process,
frequently ending in gross error, no-
ticed with peevishness, punished with
severity, consuming a great deal of
time, and for the most part only cor-
rected, after all, by the accurate viud voce
translation of the master — or, in other
words, by the Hamiltonian method.

The recurrence to a translation is
treated in our schools as a species of
imbecilitj and meanness ; just as if
there was any other dignity here than
utility, any other object in learning

* In addition to the other needless diffi-
culties and miseries entailed upon children
vho are learning languages, their Greek
lexicons give a lAtin instead of an English
translation ; and a boy of twelve or thirteen
years of age, whose attainments in Latin
ue of course but moderate, is expected to
make it the vehicle of knowledge for other
languages. This is setting the short-sighted
and Uearneyed to lead the blind ; and is one
of those afflicting pieces of absurdity which
escape animadversion, because they are,
Jpd have long been, of daily occurrence.
Mr. Jones has published an English and
Greek Lexieon, which we recommend to
tne notice of all persons engaged in educa-
tion, and not aacramented against all im-
i>rovementi

languages, than to turn something yoa
do not understand, into something yoa
do understand, and as if that was not
the best method which effected this ob-
ject in the shortest and simplest manner.
Hear upon this point the judicious
Locke : — " But if such e man cannot be
got, who speaks good Latin, and being
able to instruct your son in all these
parts of knowledge, will undertake it
by this method ; the next best is to
have him taught as near this way as
may be^which is by taking some easy
and pleasant book, such as .^sop's
Fables, and writing the English trans-
lation (made as literal as it can be) in
one line, and the Latin words which
answer each of them just over it in
another. These let him read every day
over and over again, till he perfectly un-
derstands the Latin ; and then go on
to another fable, till he be also perfect
in that, not omitting what he is already
perfect in, but sometimes reviewing
that, to keep it in his memory ; and
when, he comes to write, let thebe be
set him for copies, which, with the
exercise of his hand, will also advance
him in Latin. This being a more im-
perfect way than by talking Latin unto
him, the formation of the verbs first,
and afterwards the declensions of the
nouns and pronouns perfectly learned
by heart, may facilitate his acquaint-
ance with the genius and manner of
the Latin tongue, which varies the sig-
nification of verbs and nouns not as
the modern languages do, by particles
prefixed, but by changing the last
syllables. More than this of grammar
I think he need not have till he can
read himself * Sanctii Minerva* — with
Scioppius and Perigonius's notes." —
(^Locke on Educaiiortf p. 74. folio.)

Another recommendation which we
have not mentioned in the Hamiltonian
system is, that it can be combined, and
is constantly combined, with the sys-
tem of Lancaster.. The Key is pro-
bably suflScient for those who have no
access to classes and schools : but in ^
Hamiltonian school during the lesson,
it is not left to the option of the child
to trust to the Key alone. The mas-
ter stands in the middle, translates
accurately and literally the whole verse.

96

HAMILTON'S METHOD OF

and then ask tbe boys the English
of -separate words, or challenges them
to join the words together, as he has
done. A perpetual attention and acti-
vity is thus kept up. The master, or a
scholar (turned into a temporary Lan-
oasterian master), acts as a living lexi-
con ; and, if the thing is well done, as a
lively and animating lexicon. How is
it possible to compare this with the soli-
tary wretchedness of a poor lad of the
desk and lexicon, suffocated with the
nonsense of grammarians, overwhelmed
with every species of difficalty dispro-
portionate to his age, and driven by
despair to peg-top, or marbles ?

" Taking these principles as a basis, the
teacher forms his class of eiglU, ten, twenty,
or one hundred, — the number is of little
moment, it being as easy to teach a greater
as a smaller one, — and brings than at once
to the language itself, by reciting, with a
loud articulate voice, the first verse thus : —
In in, principio in b^inning, Verbum
Word, erat was, et and, Verbum Word, erat
was, apud at, J)euin God, et and, Verbum
Word, erat was, Deus God. Having recited
the verse once or twice himself, it is then
recited precisely in the same manner by
any person of the class whom he may judge
most capable; the person copying his man-
ner and intonations as much as possible. —
When the verse has been thus recited, by
six or eiffht persons of the class, the teacher
recites the 2nd verse in the same manner,
which is recited as the former by any mem-
bers of the class ; and thus continues mitil
he has recited trova ten to twelve verses,
which usually constitute the first lesson of
one hour. — In three lessons, the first Chap-
ter may be thus readily translated, the
teacher gradually diminishing the number
of repetitions of the same verse till the
fourth lesson, when each member of the
class translates his verse in turn ftt>m the
mouth of the teacher; from which period
ffty, sixty, or even seventy, verses may be
translated in the time of a lesson, or one
hour. At the seventh lesson, it is invariably
found that the class can translate without
the assistance of the teacher farther than
for occasional correction, and for those
words which they may not have met in the
preceding chapters. But, to accomplish
this, it is absolutely necessary that every
member of the class know every word of all
the preceding lessons : which is however an
easy task, the words being always taught
him in class, and the pupil besides being
able to refer to the key whenever he is at a
-loss— the key being translated in the very

words which the teacher has used in the
class, from which, as before remarked, he
must never deviate.— In ten lessons, it will
be found that the class can readily trans-
late the whole of the Gospel of St. John,
which is called the first section of the
course. — Should any delay, ftrom any cause,
prevent them, it is in my classes always for
account of teacher, who gives the extra
lesson or lessons always gratis.— It cannot
be too deeply impressed on the mind of the
pupil that a perfect knowledge qf every
word of his first section is most important
to the ease and comfort of his ftiture pro-
gress.— At the end of ten lessons, or first
section, the custom of my Establishments
is to give the pupil the Epitome HistoruB
Sacra, which is provided with a key in the
same manner.— It was first used in our
classes for the first and second sections ; we
now teach it in one section of ten lessons,
which we find easier than to teach it in two
sections before the pupil has read the Tes-
tament.— When he has read the Epitomo,
it will be then time to give him the theory
of the verbs and other words which change
their terminatioua-^He has abeady ac-
quired a good practical knowledge of these
things ; the theory becomes then very easy.
—A grammar containing the declensions
and conjugations, and printed specially for
my classes, is then put into the pupil's
hands (not to be got by heart,— nothing is
ever got by rote on this system), but that he
may comprehend more readily his teacher,
who lectures on grammar generally, but
especially on the verbs. From this time^
that is, fh>m the beginning of the third
section, the pupil studies the theory and
construction of the langiuge as well as its
practice. For this purpose he reads the
ancient authors, banning with Caesar,
which, together with the Selecta e Prqfanis,
fills usefully the third and fourth sections.
When these with the preceding books are
well known, the pupil will find little diffi-
culty in reading the authors usually read
in schools. The fifth and sixth sections
consist of Virgil and Horace, enough of
which is read to enable the pupil to read
them with facility, and to give him correct
ideas of Prosody and Versification. Five or
six months, with mutual attention on the
part of pupil and teacher, will be found
sufficient to acquire a knowledge of this
language, which hitherto has rar^y been
the result of as many years."

We have before said, that the Hamil-
tonian*8 system must not depend upon
Mr. Hamilton's method of carry^ing it
into execution ; for instance, he banishes
from his schools the effects of emu-

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

97

lation. The boys do not take each
other's places. This, we think, is a^
sad absurdity. A cook might as well
resolve to make bread without fermen-
tation, as a pedagogue to carf'y on a
school without emulation. It must be
a sad doughy lump without this vivi-
fying principle. Why are boys to be
shut out from a class of feelings to
which society owes so much, and upon
which their conduct in future life must
(if they are worth anything) be so
closely constructed ? Poet A writes
verses to outshine poet B. Philoso-
pher C sets up roasting Titanium, and
boiling Chroi^ium, that he may be
thought more of than philosopher D.
Mr. Jackson strives to ont-pain( Sir
Thomas ; Sir Thomas Lethbridge to
overspeak Mr. Canning ; and so so-
ciety gains good chemists, poets, paint-
ers, speakers, and orators ; and why aire
not boys to be emulous as well as
men?

If a boy were in Paris, would he
learn the language better by shutting
himself up to read French books with
a dictionary, or by conversing freely
with all whom he met ? and what
is conversation but an Hamiltonian
school? Every man you meet is a
living lexicon and grammar — who is
perpetually changing your English
into French, and perpetually instruct-
ing yon, in spite of yourself, in the
terminations of Erench substantives
and verbs. The analogy is still closer,
if you converse with persons of whom
you can ask questions, and who will
he at the trouble of correcting you.
What madness would it be to run away
from these pleasing facilities, as too
dangerously easy — to stop your ears,
to double-lock the door, and to look
out chickeits ; taking a walk ; and fine
vfeather, in Bayer's Dictionary — and
then by the help of Chambaud*s Gram-
mar, to construct a sentence which
should signify, ** Come to my house^
o»d eat some chickens, if it is fine I "
But there is in England almost a love
of difiBculty and needless labour. We
ve so resolute and industrious in
rauing up impediments which ought
to be overcome, that there is a sort of
SQspicion against the removal of these
YoL.IL

impediments, and a notion that the
advantage is not fairly come by with-
out the previous toil. If the English
were in a paradise of spontaneous
productions, they would continue to
dig and plough, though they were
never a peach nor a pine-apple the
better for it.

A principal point to attend to in the
Hamiltonian system, is the prodigious
number of words and phrases which
pass through the boy's mind, compared
with those which are presented to him
by the old plan. As a talkative boy
learns French sooner in France than a
silent boy, so a translator of books
learns sooner to construe, the more he
translates. An Hamiltonian makes, in
six or seven lessons, three or four
hundred times as many exchanges of
English for French or Latin, as a
grammar schoolboy can do ; and if he
lose 50 per cent, of all he hears, his
progress is still, beyond all possibility
of comparison, more rapid.

As for pronunciation of living lan-
guages, we see no reason why that
consideration should be introduced in
this place. We are decidedly of
opinion, that all living languages
are best learnt in the country where
they are spoken, or by living with
those who come from that country ;
but if that cannot be, Mr. Hamilton's
method is better than the grammar
and dictionary method. Cateris pari-
bus, Mr. Hamilton's method, as far as
French is concerned, would be better
in the hands of a Frenchman, and his
Italian method in the hands of an
Italian ; but all this has notliing to do
with the system.

" Have I read through Lilly ? — ^have
I learnt by heart that most atrocious
monument of absurdity, the West-
minster Grammar ? — have I been
whipt for the substantives ? — whipt
for the verbs ? — and whipt for and
with the interjections ? — have I picked
the sense slowly, and word by word,
out of Hederick ?V- And shall my son
Daniel be exempt from all this
misery ? — Shall a little unknown
peraon in Cecil Street, Strand, No. 25.,
pretend to tell me that all this is un-
necessary ? — Was it possible that I

H

98

HAMILTON'S METHOD OP

might have been spared all this? —
The whole system is nonsense, and the
man an impostor. If there had been
any truth in it, it must have occurred
to some one else before this period."-^
This is a very common style of obser-
vation upon Mr. Hamilton's system,
and by no means an nncommon wish
of the mouldering and decaying part
of mankird, that the next generation
should not enjoy any advantages from
which they themselves have been pre-
cluded. — '*Ay,ayfif8 ali mighty well
— but 1 went through this my self ^ and I
am determined my children shall do the
same." We are convinced that a great
deal of opposition to improvement
proceeds upon this principle. Crabbe
might make a good picture of an iin-
benevolent old man, slowly retiring
from this sublunary scene, and lament-
ing that the coming race of men
would be less bnmp^ Xm the roads,
better lighted in the streets, and less
tormented with grammars and lexicons,
•than in the preceding age. A great
deal of compliment to the wisdom of
ancestors, and a great degree of alarm
at the dreadful spirit of innovation, are
soluble into mere jealousy and envy.

But what is to become of a boy who
has no difficulties to grapple with?
How enervated will that understand-
ing be, to which everything is made
so clear, plain, and easy I — no hills to
walk up, no chasms to step over ;
everything graduated, soft, and smooth.
^ All this, however, is an objection to
the multiplication table, to Napier's
bones, and to every invention for the
abridgment of human labour. There
is no dread of any lack of difficulties.
Abridge intellectual labour by any
process yon please -^ multiply mecha-
nical powers to any extent — ihere will
be sufficient, and infinitely more than
sufficient, of laborious occupation for
the mind and body of man. Why is
the boy to be idle ? — By and by comes
the book without a key ; by and by
comes the lexicon, ^hey do come at
last — though at a better period. But
if they did not come — if they were use*
less, if language could be attained with«
out them -^ would any human being
wish to retain difficulties for their own

sake which led to nothing useful, and
by the annihilation of which our facul-
ties were left to be exercised by difficul-
ties which do lead to something useful
— by mathematics, natural philosophy,
and every branch of useful knowledge ?
Can any be so anserous as to suppose,
that the faculties of young men cannot
be exercised, and their industry and
activity called into proper action,
because Mr. Hamilton teaches, in three
or four years, what has (in a more
vicious system) demanded seven or
eight ? Besides, even in the Hamil-
tonian method it is very easy for one
boy to outstrip another. Why may not
a clever and ambitious boy employ
three hours upon his key by himself^
while another boy has only employed
one? There is plenty of corn to
thrash, and of chaff to be winnowed
away, in Mr. Hamilton's system ; the
difference is, that every blow tells,
because it is properly directed. In the
old way half their force was lost in air.
There is a mighty foolish apophthegm
of pr. Bell's*, that it is not what is
done for a boy that is of importance,
but what a boy does for himself. This
is just as wise as to say, that it i^
not the breeches which are made for a
boy that can cover bis nakedness, but
(he breeches he makes for himself.
All this entirely depends upon a com-
parison of the time saved, by showing
the boy how to do a thing, rather than
by leaving him to do it for himself.
Ltet the object be, for example, to make
a pair of shoes. The boy will effect
this object much better if you show
him how to make the shoes, than if you
merely give him wax, thread, and
leather, and leave him to find out all
the ingenious abridgments of labour
which have been discovered by expe-
rience. The object is to turn Latin
into English. The scholar will do it
much better and sooner if the word is
found for him, than if he finds it —
much better and sooner if you point
out the effect of the terminations, and
the nature of the syntax, than if you
leave him to detect them for himselt

* A very foolish old gentleman, seised on
eagerly bjthe Church of Englaud to defraud
Liuicaster of his disooveiy»

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

99

The thing » at last done hy t/te pupil
himself — for he reads the language —
which was the thing to be done. AH
the help he has received has only
enabled him to make a more economic
cal use of his time, and to gain his end
sooner. Never be afraid of wanting
difficulties for your pupil ; if means are
rendered more easy, more will be ex-
pected. The animal will be compelled
or induced to do all that he can do.
Macadam has made the roads better.
l)r. Bell would have predicted that the
horses would get loo fat : but the actual
result is, that they are compelled to go
ten miles an hour instead of eigbL

** For teaching children, this, too, I
think is to be observed, that, in most
cases, where they stick, they are not to
be farther puzzled, by putting them
upon finding it out themselves ; as by
asking sueh questions as these ; viz. —
which is the nominative case in the
sentence they are to construe ? or de>
manding what 'aofero' signifies, to
lead them to the knowledge what
^abfltnlere* signifies, &c., when they
cannot readily tell. This wastes time
only, in disturbing them ; for whilst
they are learning, and apply themselves
with attention, they are to be kept in
good humour, and everything made
easy to them, and as pleasant as
possible. Therefore, wherever they
are at a stand, and are willing to go
forwards, help them presently over
the difficulty, without any rebuke or
chiding ; remembering that^ where
harsher ways, are taken, they are the
effect only of pride and peevishness
in the teacher, who expects children
should instantly be masters of as much
S8 he knows; whereas he should rather
consider, that bis business is to settle
in them habits^ not angrily to inculcate
Tvles!"^(LocAe on Edueation, p. 74.)

' Suppose liie first five books of Hero-
dotus to be acquired by a key^ or literal
translation afi;er the method of Hamil-
ton, so that the pupil could construe
them with the greatest accuracy ; —
tve do not pretend, because the pupil
could construe this book, that he could
construe any other book equally easy;
we merely say, that the pupil has ac-
quired, by these means, a certain copia

verborum,taid a certain practical know-
ledge of grammar, which must materi-
ally diminish the difficulty of reading
the next book ; that his difficulties
diminish in a compound ratio with
every fresh book he reads with a key
— till at last he reads any common
book, without a key — and that he
attains this last point of perfection in a
time incomparably less, and with diffi-
culties incomparably smaller, than in
the old method.

There are a certain number of French
bookSy which when a boy can construe
accurately, he may be said, for all pur-
poses of reading, to be master of the
French language. No matter how he
has attained this power of construing
the books. If yon try him thoroughly,
and are persuaded he is perfectly
master of the books — then he posses-
ses the power in question — he under-
stands the language. Let these books,
for the sake of the question, be Teler
machus, the History of Louis XIV.
the Henriade, the Flays of Racine,
and the Revolutions of Vertot. We
would have Hamiltonian keys to all-
these books, and the Lancasterian
method of instruction. We believe
these books would be mastered in one
sixth part of the time, by these means,
that they would be by the old method,
of looking out the words in the diction-
ary, and then coming to say the lesson
to the master ; and we believe that
the boys, long before they came to the
end of this series of books, would be
able to do without their keys — to fling
away their cork jackets, and to swim
alone. But boys who learn a language
in four or five months, it is said, are
apt to forget it again. Why, then,
does not a young person, who has been
five or six months in Faris, forget his
French four or five years afterwards ?
It has been obtained without any of
that labour, which the objectors to tho
Hamiltonian system deem to be so
essential to memory. It has been
obtained in the midst of tea and bread
and butter, and yet is in a great mea-
sure retained for a whole life- In the^
same manner the pupils of this new
school use a colloquial living dictionary,^
and, from every principle of youthful

H 2

100 HAMILTON'S

emulation, contend with «ach other in :
catching the interpretation, and in
applying to the lesson before them.

•*lf you wish boys to remember any
language, make the acquisition of it
Tery tedious and disgusting." This
seems to be an odd rule ; but if it be
good for language, it must he good
also for every species of knowledge —
music, mathematics, navigation, archi-
tecture. In all these sciences aversion
should be the parent of memory —
impediment the canise of perfection.
If difficulty is the sauce of memory,
the boy who learns with the gre&test
difficulty will remember with the
greatest tenacity; — in other words,
the acquisitions of a dunce will be
greater and knore important than those
of a clever boy. Where is the love of
difficulty to end ? Why not leave a
boy to compose his own dictionary and
grammar ? It is not what is done for
a boy, but what he does for himself,
that is of any importance. Are there
difficulties enough in the old method
of acquiring languages ? Would it be
l>etter if the difficulties were doubled,
And thirty years g:iven to languages,
instead of fifteen ? All these argu-
ments presume the difficulty to be got
over, and then the memory to be im-
proved. But what if the difficulty is
shrunk from ? What if it put an end
to power instead of increasing it ; and
extinguish, instead of exciting, appli-
cation ? And when these effects are
produced, you not only preclude all'
hopes of learning, or language, but
you put an end for ever to adl literary
habits, and to all improvements from
study. The boy who is lexicon-struck
in early youth looks upon all books
afterwards with horror, and goes over
to the blockheads. Every boy would
be pleased with books, and pleased
with school, and be glad to forward
the views of his parents, and obtain
the praise of his master, if he found it
possible to make tolerably easy pro-
gress; but (he is driven to absolute
despair by gerunds, and wishes himself
dead ! Progress is pleasure->-activity
is pleasure. It is impossiUe for a boy
BOt to make progress, and not to be
active, in the Hamiltonian method ;

METHOD OF

and this pleasing state of mind we
contend to be more favourable to
memoiy, than the languid jaded spirit
which much commerce with lexicons
never fails to produce.

Translations are objected to in
schools justly enoagh, when they are
paraphrases and not translations. It
is impossible, irom a paraphrase ^ or
very loose translation, to make any
useful 'progress — they retard rather
than accelerate a knowledge of the
language to be i|cquired, and are the
principal causes' of the discredit into
which translations have been brought,
as instruments of education.

InliMidum B^fina jubes renovare dolorem,
Begina, jubes renovare dolorem infimdum.

Ohl Q^eeu^ thou orderett to renew gri^
not to be epokeni)/.

Oh 1 Queen, in pursuance of your com*
mands, I enter upon the narrative of mis-
fortunes almost too great for utterance.

The first of these translations leads
us directly to the explication of a
foreign language, as the latter insures
a perfect ignorance of it.

It is difficult enough to introduce
any useful novelty in education with-
out enhancing its perils by needless
and untenable paiadox. Mr. Hamilton
has made an assertion in his Preface
to the Key of the Italian Gospel, which
has no kind of foundation in fact, and
which has afforded a conspicuous mark
for the aim of his antagonists.

'* I have said that each word is translated
by its one sole imdeviating meaning, as-
suming as an incontrovertible principle in
all languages that, with very few exceptions,
each word has one meaning only, and can
usually be rendered correctly into another
by one word only, which one word should
serve for its repregentative at all times and
on all occasions.'*

Now, it is probable that each word
had one meaning only in its origin ;
but metaphor and association are so
busy with human speech, that the same
word comes to- sdrve in a vast variety
of senses, and continues to do so long
after the metaphors and associations
which called it into this state of activity
are buried in oblivion. Why may not
jttbeo be translated order as well as

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

101

i!<nnmand, or dphrem rendered grief as
well as sorrow? Mr. Hamilton has
expressed himself loosely ; but he
perhaps means no more than to say,
that in school translations, the meta-
physical meaning should never be
adopted, when the word can be ren-
dered by its primary signification.
We shall allow him, however, to detail
his own method of making the trans-
lation in qaestion.

"Translationa on the Hamiltonian sy9-
tern, according to which this book is trans-
lated, must not be confounded with trans-
lations made according to Locke, Clarke,
Sterling, or even according to Dumarsaifi,
Premont, and a number of other French-
men, who have made what have been and
are yet sometimes called literal and inter-
lineal translations. The latter are, indeed,
interlineal, but no literal translation had
ever appeared, in any language before thoSe
called Hamiltonian, that is, before my
Gospel of St. John from the French, the
Greek, and Ijatin Gospds published in
Ix>ndon, and L'Hommond*s Epitome of the
Historia Sacra. These and these only were
And are truly literal ; that is to say, that
every word is rendered in English by a
corresponding part of speech; that the
grammatical analysis of the phrase is never
departed firom ; that the case of every noun,
pronoun, acycctive, or particle, and the
mood, teniae, and parson of every verb, are
accurately pointed out by appropriate and
unchanging signs, so that a grammarian not
understanding one word of Italian, would,
on reading any part of the translation here
given, be instantly able to parse it. In the
translations above alluded to, an attempt is
made to preserve the correctness of the
language into which the different works
are translated, but the wish to conciliate
this correctness with a literal translation
has only produced a barbarous and uncouth
idiom, while it has in every case deceived
the unlearned pupil by a translation alto-
gether &lse and incorrect. Such transla-
tions may, indeed, give an idea of what is
contained In the book translated, but they
will not assist, or at least very little, in
enabling the pupil to mtike out the exact
meaning of each word, which is the prin-
cipal object of Hamiltonian translations.
The reader will understand this better by
an illustration : A gentleman has lately
given a translation of Juvenal according to
the plan of the above mentioned authors,
beginning with the words semper e^o, which
he joins and translates, * shall I always be '
•^ if his intention were to teach Latin

words, he might as well have said, 'shall I
always eat beef-steaks?' — True, there is
nothing about beef-steaks in semper ego,
but neither is there about ' shall be : * the
whole translation is on the same plan, that
ia to say, that there is not one line of it
correct,— ; I had almost said one word, on
which the -pupil can rely, as the exact
equivalent in English of the Latin word
above it.— Not so the translation here
given.

"As the object of the author has been
that the pupil should know every word as
well as he knows it himself, he has uni-
formly given it the one sole, precise, mean-
ing which it has in our language, sacrificing
everywhere the beauty, the idiom, and the
correctness of the English lai^uage to the
original, in order to show the perfect idiom,
phraseology, and picture of that original as
in a glass. So far is this carried, that where
the English language can express the pre-
cise meanii^ of the Italian phrase only by
a barbarism, this barbarism is employed
without scruple — - as thus : — ' e le tenebre
non rhanno ammessa.' — Here the word
ten^tre being plural, if you translate it
darkness, you not oaiy give a false transla-
tion of the word its^, which is used by
the Italians in the plural nimiber, but,
what is much more important, you lead the
pupil into an error about its government, it
being the nominative case to fuinno, which
is the third person plural ; it is theref(nre
translated not darkness but darknesses."

To make these keys perfect, we
rather think there shouild be a free
translation added to the literal one.
Not a paraphrase, but only so free as
to avoid any awkward or barbarous
expression. The comparison between
the free and the literal translation
would immediately show to young
people the peculiarities of the language
in which they were engaged.

Literal translation or key — Oh!
Queen, ihou orderest to renew grief not
to be spoken of

Free, — **0h ! Queen, thou orderest
me to renew my grief, too great for
utterance."

The want of this accompanying free
translation is not felt in keys of the
Scriptures, because, in fact, the Eng*
lish Bible is a free translation, great
part of which the scholar remembers.
But in a work entirely unknown, of
which a key was given, as full of awk*
ward -and barbarous expressions as a

H 3

IQS

HAMILTON'S METHOD OF

key certainly onght to be, a scholar
might be sometimes pazzled to arrive
at the real sense. We say as full of
awkward and barbarous expressions as
it ought to be« because we thoroughly
approve of Mr. Hamilton's plan, ot
always sacrificing English and ele-
gance to sense, when they cannot be
united in the key. We are r^cther sorry
Mr. Hamilton's first essay has been in
a translation of the Scriptures, be-
cause every child is so familiar with
them, that it may be difiicult to deter-
mine whether the apparent progress is
ancient recollection or recent attain-
ment ; and because the Scriptures are
so full of Hebraisms and Syriacisms,
and the language so different from that
of Greek authors, that it does not
secure a knowledge of the language
equivalent to the time employed upon it.
The keys hitherto published by Mr.
Hamilton are the Greek, Latin, French,
Italian, and German keys to the Gos-
pel of St. John, Perrin's Fables, Latin
Historia Sacra, Latin, French, and
Italian Grammar and Stndia Metrica.
One of the difficulties under which the
system is labouring, is a want of more
Keys. Some of the best Greek and
Koman classics should be immediately
published, with Keys, and by yery good
scholars. We shall now lay before
our readers an extract from one of
the public papers respecting the pro-
gress made in the Hamiltonian schools.

Extract from the Morning Chronicle qf
Wednesday, NovemberlQth, 1825.— **Haniil-
Umian System. — We yesterday were present
at an examination of cTight lada who have
been under Mr. Hamilton since some time
in the month of May last, with a view to
ascertain the efficacy of his system in com-
municating a knowledge of languages.
These eight lads, all of them between the
ages of twelve and fourteen, are the children
of poor people, who, when they were first
placed under l&r. Hamilton, possessed no
other instruction than common reading
and writing. They were obtained trom a
common country school, through the inter-
position of a Member of Parliament, who
takes an active part in promoting charity
schools throughout the country; and the
choice was determined by the consent of
the parents, and not by the cleverness of
the boys.

"Thi^y have been employed in learning

Latin, French, and latterly Italian; and
yesterday they were examined by several
distinguished individuals, among whom
we recognised John Smith, Esq. M.P. ;
G. Smith, Esq. M.P.; Mr. J. Mill, the
historiui of British India ; Major Camac ;
Major Thompson ; Mr. Cowell, Ac. &c
They first read different portions of the
Gospel of St. John in Latin, and Caesar's
Ck)mmentaries, selected hy the visitors.
The translation was executed with an
ease which it would be in vain to expect
in any of the Ix^ who attend our com-
mon schools, even in their third or fourth
year; and proved, that the principle
of exciting the attention of boys to the
utmost, during the process by which the
meaning of the words is fixed in their me-
mory, had given them a great familiarity
with so much of the language as is con-
tained in the books above alluded ta Their
knowledge of the parts of speech was re-
spectable, but not so remarkable ; as the
Hamiltonian system follows the natural
mode of acquiring language, and only em-
ploys the boys in analysing, when they have
already attained a certain familiarity with
any language.

'* The same experiments were repeated in
Prench and Italian with the same sucoeas,
and, upon the whole, we cannot but think
the success has been complete. It is im-
possible to conceive a more impartial mode
of putting any system to the test, than to
make such an experiment on the children
of our peasantry.'*

Into the truth of this statement we
have personally inquired, and it seems
to as to have fallen short of the facts
from the laudable fear of overstating
them. The lads selected for the ex-,
periment were parish boys of the most
ordinary description, reading English
worse than Cumberland curates, and
totally ignorant of the rudiments of
any other language. They were pur-
posely selected for the experiment by
a gentleman who defrayed its expense,
and who had the strongest desire to
put strictly to the test the efiicacy of
the Hamiltonian system. The experi-
ment was begun the middle of May,
1825, and concluded on the day of
November in the same year mentioned
in the extract, exactly six months
after. The Latin books set before
them were the Gospel of St. John,
and parts of Csssar's Commentaries.
Some Italian book or books (what we

TEACHING LANGUAGEa

103

know not), and a selection of French
histories. The visitors put the boys
on where they pleased, and the trans-
lation was (as the reporter says)
executed with an ease which it would
be Tain to expect in any of the boys
who attend our common schools, eveu
in their third or fourth year.*

From experiments and observations
which have fallen under our own
notice, we do not scruple to make the
following assertions. If there were
keys to the four Gospels, as there is to
that of St. John, any boy or girl of
thirteen years of age, and of moderate
capacity, studying four hours a day,
and beginning with an utter ignorance
even of the Greek character, would
learn to construe the four Gospels with
the most perfect and scrupulous accu-
racy in six weeks. Some children, utterly
ignorant of French or Italian, would
Icam to construe the four Gospels in
either of these languages in three
weeks ; the Latin in four weeks, the
German, in five weeks. We believe
they would do it in a class ; but, not
to ran any risks, we will presume a
master to attend upon one student
alone for these periods. We assign a
niaster principally because the appli-
cation of a solitary boy at that age
coald not be depended upon ; but if
the sedulity of the child were certain,
he would do it nearly as well alone.
A fpreater time is allowed for German
and Greek, on account of the novelty
of the character. A person of mature
habits, eager and energetic in his pur-
suits, and reading seven. or eight hours
per day, might, though utterly ignorant
of a letter of Greek, learn to construe
the four Gospels, with the most punc-
tilious accuracy, in three weeks, by
the Key alone. These assertions we
make, not of the Gospels alone, but of
any tolerably easy book of the same
extent We mean to be very accurate ;
hut suppose we are. wrong — add 10,
20, 30 per cent, to the time — an

* We have left with the bookseller the
names of two gentlemen who have verified
this account to us, and who were present
at the experiment. Their names will at
onoe put an end to all scepticism as to the
fact. Two more candid and enlightened
judges could not be fomid.

average boy of thirteen, in an averaj;e
school, cannot construe the four Gas-
pels in two years from the time of his
beginning the language.

All persons would be glad to read a
foreign language, but all persons do
not want the same scrupulous and
comprehensive knowledge of grammar
which a great Latin scholar possesses.
Many persons may, and do, derive
great pleasure and instruction from
French, German, and Italian books,
who can neither speak nor write these
languages — who know that certain
terminations, when they see them,
signify present or past time, but who,
if they wished to signify present or
past time, could not recall these ter-
minations. For many purposes and
objects, therefore, very little grammar
is wanting.

The Hamiltonian method begins
with what all persons want — a faci^
lity of construing, and leaves every
scholar to become afterwards as pro-
found in grammar as he (or those who
educate him) may choose ; whereas
the old method aims at making all
more profound grammarians than three
fourths wish to be, or than nineteen
twentieths can be. One of the enor-
mous follies of the enormously foolish
education in England is, that all young
men — dukes, foxhunters, and mer*-
chnnts — are educated as if they were
to keep a school, and serve a curacy ;
while scarcely an hour in the Hamil-
tonian education is lost for any variety
of life. A grocer may learn enough
of Latin to taste the sweets of Virgil \
a cavalry officer may read and under-
.stand Homer, without knowing that
trifxi comes from tu with a smooth
breathing, and that it is formed by an
improper reduplication* In the mean-
time, there is nothing in that education
which prevents a scholar from knowing
(if he wishes to know) what Greek com-
pounds draw back their accents. He
may trace verbs in ifu from polysyllables
in Im, or derive endless glory from mark-
ing down derivatives in wrw, changing
the c of their primitives into iota.

Thus, in the Hamiltonian method,
a good deal of grammar necessarily
impresses itself upon the mind (cAe*

ii 4

104

HAMILTON'S METHOD OlP

min fawmt)^ as it does in the verna-
cular tongue* without any rule at all,
and merely by habit. How is it pos-
sible to read many Latin Keys, for
instance, without remarking, willingly
or unwillingly, that the first persons of
verbs end in o, the second in «, the
third \u.t9 — that the same adjective
ends in us or a, accordingly as the
connected substantive is masculine or
feminine, and other such gross and
common rules? An Englishman who
means to say, / will go to London, does
not say, / could go to London, He
never read a word of grammar in his
life ; but he has learnt by habit, that
the word go signifies to proceed or set
forth, and by the same habit he learns
that future intentions are expressed by
/ will; and by the same habit the
Hamiltonian pupil, reading over and
comprehending twenty times more
words and phrases than the pupil of
the ancient system, insensibly but in-
fallibly fixes upon his mind many
rules of grammar* We are far from
meaning to say, that the grammar thus
acquired will be sufficiently accurate
for a first-rate Latin and Greek scholar ;
but there is no reason why a young
person arriving at this distinction, and
educated in the Hamiltonian system,
may not carry the study of grammar
to any degree of minuteness and ac-
curacy. The only difference is, that
he begins grammar as a study, after
he has made a considerable progress in
the language, and not before — • a very
important feature in the Hamiltonian
system, and a very great improvement
in the education of children.

The imperfections of the old system
proceed in a great measure from a
bad and improvident accumulation of
difficulties, which must all perhaps,
though in a ^ess degree, at one time or
another be encountered, but which
may be, and in the Hamiltonian
system are, much more wisely dis-
tributed. A boy who sits down to
Greek with lexicon and grammar, has
to master an unknown character of
an unknown language — to look out
words in a lexicon, in the use of which
he is inexpert — to guess, by many
trials, in which of the numerous senses

detailed in the lexicon he is to use
the word — to attend to the inflexions
of cases and tense — to become ac-
quainted with the syntax of the lan-
guage — and to become acquainted
with these inflexions and this syntax
from books written in foreign langu-
ages, and fuU of the most absurd and
barbarous terms, and this at the ten-
derest age, when the mind is utterly
unfit to grapple with any great diffi-
culty ; and the boy, who revolts at all
this folly and absurdity, is set down
for a donee, and must go into a march-
ing regiment, or on board a man of
war I The Hamiltonian pupil has his
word looked out for him, its proper
sense ascertained, the case of the sub-
stantive, the inflexions of the verb
pointed out, and the syntaxical ar-
rangement placed before his eyes.
Where, then, is he to encounter these
difficulties ? Does he hope to escape
them entirely ? Certainly not, if it
be his purpose to . become a great
scholar ; but he will enter upon them
when the character is familiar to his
eye — when a great number of Greek
words are familiar to his eye and ear
— when he has practically mastered a
great deal of grammar — when the
terminations of verbs convey to him
different modifications of time, the ter-
minations of substantives different
varieties of circumstance — when the
rules of grammar, In short, are a con-
firmation of previous observation, not
an irksome multitude of directions,
heaped up without any opportunity of
immediate application.

The real way of learning a dead
language, is to imitate, as much as
possible, the method in which a living
language is naturally learnt. When
do we ever find a well-educated Eng-
lishman or Frenchman embarrassed by
an ignorance of the granmiar of their
respective languages ? They first
learn it practically and unerringly ;
and then, if they choose to look back
and smile at the idea of having pro-
ceeded by a number of rules without
knowing one of them by heart, or
being conscious that they had any
rule at all, this is a philosophical
amusement : but who ever thinks of

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

105

•learning the grammar of their own
tongue before they are very good
^mmarians ? Let ns hear what Mr.
Locke says apon this subject : — "If
grammar onght to be taught at any
time, it must be to one that can speak
the language ah'eady; how else can
he be taught the grammar of it ?
This at least is evident, from the
practice of the wise and learned
nations amongst the ancients. They
made it a part of education to culti-
vate their own, not foreign languages.
The Greeks counted all other nations
barbarous, and had a contempt for
their languages. And though the Greek
learning grew in credit amongst the
Bomans towards the end of their
commonwealth, yet it was the Koman
tongne that was made the study of
their youth : their own language they
were to make use of, and therefore it
was their own language they were in-
structed and exercised in.

**But, more particularly, to deter-
mine the proper season for grammar,
1 do not see how it can reasonably be
made any one's study, but as an in-
troduction to rhetoric. When it is
thought time to put any one upon the
care of polishing his* tongne, and of
speaking better than the illiterate, then
is the time for him to be instructed in
the rules of grammar, and not before.
For grammar being to teach men not
to speak, but to speak correctly, and ac-
cording to the exact rules of the tongue,
which is one part of elegancy, there is
little use of the one to him that has no
need of the other. Where rhetoric is
not necessary, grammar maybe spared.
I know not why any one should waste
his time, and beat his head about the
Iiatin grammar, who does not intend
to be a critic or make speeches, and
write despatches in it. When any one
finds in himself a necessity or dispo-
sition to study any foreign language to
the .bottom, and to be nicely exact in
the knowledge of it, it will be time
enough to take a grammatical survey
of it. If his use of it be only to
understand some books writ in it,
without a critical knowledge of the
tongue itself, reading alone, as I have
said, will attain that end, without

charging the mind with the multiplied
rules and intricacies of grammar.'' —
(Jjocke on Educatiorif p. 78. folio.)

In the Eton Grammar, the following
very plain and elementary information
is conveyed to young gentlemen utterly
ignorant of every syUable of the lan-
guage : —

** Nomina anomala qute contrahuntur
sunt, 'OAoirot^, qu8B contrahuntur iu om-
nibus, ut Yooc YOv$, &0. 'OAiyoiro^, qu» in
paucioribus casibus contrahuntur, ut sub-
stantiva Barytonia in vp. Imparyllatna in
ovp,'* &C. &c

From the Westminster Grammar we
make the following extract — and some
thousand rules, conveyed in poetry of
equal merit, must be fixed upon the
mind of the youthful Grecian, before he
advances into the interior of the lan-^
guage : --

**» finis thematis finis utriusque fiituri est
Post liquidam in primo, vel in uuoquoque
. secundo,

w circujnfleKum est. Ante w finale cha-
racter
Ezplicitus <rc primi est implicitusque

futuri
w itaque in quo <r quasi plezum est solitn
in <«!>."
WesttiUnater Greek Grammar, 1814*

Such are the easy initiations of our
present methods of teaching. The
Hamiltonian system, on the other
hand, 1. teaches an unknown tongue
by the closest interlinear translation,
instead of leaving a boy to explore
his way by the lexicon or dictionary.
2. It postpones the study of grammar
till a considerable progress has been
made in the language, and a great de-
gree of practical grammar has been
acquired. 3. It substitutes the cheer-
fulness and competition of the Lancas^
terian system for the dull solitude of
the dictionary. By these means, a
boy finds be is making a progress, and
learning something from the very be-
ginning. He is not overwhelmed with
the first appearance of insuperable
difiiculties ; he receives some little
pay from the first moment of his ap-
prenticeship, and is not compelled to
wait for remuneration till he is. out of
his time. The student having acquired
I the great art of understanding the

106

COUNSEL ]?0R PRISONERS.

sense of what is written in another
tongue, may go into the study of the
language as deeply and as extensively
as he pleases. The old system aims at
beginning with a depth and accuracy
which many men never will want,
which disgusts many from arriving
even at moderate attainments, and is
a less easy, and not more certain road
to a profound skill in languages, than
if attention to grammar had been de-
ferred to a later period.

In fine, we are strongly persuaded,
that the time being given, this system
will make better scholars ; and the
degree of scholarship being given, a
much shorter time will be needed. If
there be any truth in this, it will make
Mr. Hamilton one of the most useful
men of his age ; for if there be any-
tliing which fills reflecting men with
melancholy and regret, it is the waste
of mortal time, parental money, and
puerile happiness, in the present method
of pursuing Latin And Greek.

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERa
(E. Review, 1826.)

Stockton on the Practice qf not aUotving
Counsel for PrUoneTB acetued qfFekmy,
8vo. London. 1826.

On the sixth of April, 1 824, Mr. George
Lamb (a gentleman who is always the
advocate of whatever is honest and
liberal) presented the following peti-
tion from several jurymen in the habit
of serving on juries at the Old Bailey: —

"That your petitioners, fully sensible of
the invaluable privilege of Jury trials, and
desirous of seeing them as complete as hu-
man institutions will admit, feel it their
duty to draw the attention of the House to
the restrictions imposed on the prisoner's
counsel, which, they humbly conceive, have
strong claims to a legislative remedy. With
every disposition to decide justly, the peti-
tioners have found, by experience, in the
course of their attendances as jurymen in
the Old Bailey, that the opening statements
for the prosecution too frequently leave an
impression more unfavourable to the pri-
soner at the bar, than the evidence of itself
could have produced; and it has always
sounded harsh to the petitioners to hear it
announced from the bench, that the coun-
sel, to whom the priuouer has committed

his defence, cannot be permitted to address
the jury in his behalf, nor reply to the
charges which have, or have not, been sub-
stantiated by the witnesses. The peti-
tioners have felt their situation peculiarly
painful and embarrassing when the pri-
soner's faculties, perhaps surprised by such
an intimation, are too much absorbed, in
the difficulties of his unhappy circumstan-
ces to admit of an effort towards bis own
justification, against the statements of the
prosecutor's counsel, often unintentionally
aggravated through zeal or misconception;
and it is purely with a view to the attain-
ment of impartial justice, that the peti-
tioners humbly submit to the serious con-
sideration of the House the expediency of
allowing every accused person the ftill be-
nefit of counsel, as in cases of misdemean-
our, and according to the practice of the
civil courts."

With the opinions so sensibly and
properly expressed by these jnrynaen,
we most cordially agree. We have
before touched incidentally on this sub-
ject ; but shall now give to it a more
direct and fuller examination. We
look upon it as a very great blot in
our over-praised criminal code ; and
no effort of oui*s shall be wanting, from
time to time» for its removal

We have now the benefit of discuss-
ing these subjects under the govern-
ment of a Hume Secretary of State,
whom we may (we believe) fairly call
a wise, honeflt, and high-principled
man — as he appears to us, without
wishing for innovation, or having any
itch for it, not to be afraid of innova-
tion*, when it is gradual and well con-
sidered. He is, indeed, almost the only
person we remember in his station, who
has not considered sound sense to
consist in the rejection of every im-
provement, and loyalty to be proved by
the defence of ever}' accidental, imper-
fect, or superannuated institution.

If this petition of jurymen be a real
bond fide petition, not the result of soli-

* We must always except the Catholic
question. Mr. Peers opinions on this sub-
ject (giving him credit for sincerity) have
alwavs been a subject of real surprise to
us. It must surely be some mistake between
the Ri^ht Honourable Gentleman and his
chaplam 1 They have been travelling toge-
ther, and some of the parson's notions have
been put up in Mr. Peel's head by mistake.
We yet hope he will return them to their
rightful owner.

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

107

citation — and we have no reason to
doubt it — it is a warning which the
Legislature cannot neglect, if it mean
to avoid the disgrace of seeing the
lower and middle orders of mankind
making laws for themselves, which the
Goyemment is at length compelled to
adopt as measures of their own. The
Judges and the Parliament would have
gone on to this day, hanging, by whole-
sale, for the forgeries of bank notes, if
juries had not become weary of the
continual butchery, and resolved to
acquit. The proper execution of laws
must always depend, in great measure,
upon public opinion ; and it is un-
doubtedly most discreditable to any
men intrusted with power, when the
governed turn round upon their gover-
nors, and say, ** Your laws are so cruel,
or 80 foolish, we can not, and will not,
act upon them."

The particular improvement, of al-
lowing counsel to those who are accused
of felony, is so far from being uo neces-
sary, from any extraordinary indul-
gence shown to English prisoners, that
we really cannot help suspecting, that
not a year elapses in which many inno-
cent persons are not found guilty.
How is it possible, indeed, that it can
be otherwise ? There are seventy or
eighty persons to be tried for various
offences at the Assizes, who have lain
in prison for some months ; and fifty
of whom, perhaps, are of the lowest
order of the people, without friends in
any better condition than themselves,
and without one single penny to em-
ploy in their defenee. How are. they
to obtain witnesses ? No attorney can
l)e employed — no subpoena can be
taken out ; the witnesses are fifty miles
off, perhaps — totally uninstmcted —
living from hand to mouth — utterly
unable to give up their daily occupa-
tion, to pay for their journey, or for
their support when arrived at the town
of trial — and, if they could get there,
not knowing where to go, or what to
da It is impossible but that a human
being, in such a helpless situation,
must be found guilty ; for as he can-
not give evidence for himself, and has
not a penny to fetcii those who can
give it for him, any story told against

him must be taken for true (however
false) ; since it is impossible for the
poor wretch to contradict it. A brother
or a sister may come — and support
every suffering and privation them-
selves in coming ; but the prisoner
cannot often have such claims upon
the persons who have witnessed the
transaction, nor any other claims but
those which an unjustly accused per-
son has upon those whose testimony
can exculpate him — and who probably
must starve themselves and their fami-
lies to do it. It is true, a case of life
and Aeaxh will rouse the poorest per-
sons, every now and then, to extraor-
dinary exertions, and they may tramp
through mud and dirt to the Assize
town to save a life — though even this
effort is precarious enough : but impri-
sonment, hard labour, or transportation,
appeal less forcibly than death — and
would often appeal for evidence in vain,
to the feeble and limited resources of
extreme poverty. It is not that a great
proportion of those accused are not
guilty — but that some are not — and are
utterly without means of establishing
their innocence. We do not believe
they are often accused from wilful and
corrupt perjury ; but the prosecutor is
himself mistaken— the crime has been
committed; and in his thirst for ven-
geance, he has got hold of the wrong
man. The wheat was stolen out of
the barn ; and, amidst many other col-
lateral circumstances, the witnesses
(paid and brought up by a wealthy
prosecutor, who is repaid by the coun-
ty) swear that they saw a man, very
like the prisoner, with a sack of corn
upon his shoulder, at an early hour of
the morning, going from the barn in
the direction of the prisoner's cottage !
Here is one link, and a very material
link, of a long chain of circumstantial
evidence. Judge and jury must give
it weight, till it is contradicted. In
fact, the prisoner did not steal the
corn; he was, to be sure, out of his
cottage at the same hour— and that
also is proved — but travelling in a
totally different direction — and was
seen to be so travelling by a stage
coachman passing by, and by a market
gardener. An attorney with money iu.

108

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

liifl pocket, whom every moment of
such employ made richer by six-and-
eightpence, would have had the two
witnesses ready, and at rack and man-
ger, from the first day of the assize ;
and the innocence of the prisoner
would have been established: but by
what possible means is the destitute
ignorant wretch himself to find or to
produce such witnesses? or how can
the most humane jury, and the most
acute judge, refuse to consider him as
guilty, till his witnesses are produced?
We have not the slightest disposition
to exaggerate, and on the contrary,
should be extremely pleased to be con-
vinced that our apprehensions were
unfounded : but we have often felt ex-
treme pain at the hopeless and unpro-
tected state of prisoners;, and we can-
not find any answer to our suspicions,
or discover any means by which this
perversion of justide, under the present
stt^te of the law, can be prevented from
taking place. Against the prisoner
are arrayed all the resources of an
angry prosecutor, who has certainly
(let who will be the culprit) suffered a
serious injury. He has his hand, too,
in the public purse; for he prosecutes
at the expense of the county. He can-
not even relent; for the magistrate has
bound him over to indict. His wit-
nesses cannot fail him; for they are
all bound over by the same magistrate
to give evidence. He is out of prison,
too, and can exert himself.

The prisoner, on the other hand,
comes into Court, squalid and de-
pressed from long confinenient — ut-
terly unable to tell his own story for
want of words and want of confidence,
and as unable to produce evidence
for want of money. His fate ac-
cordingly is obvious;— and tha,t there
are many innocent men punished every
year, for crimes they have not com-
mitted, appears to us to be extremely
probable. It is indeed, scarcely pos-
sible it should be otherwise; and, as if
to prove the fact, every now and then,
a case of this kind is detected. Some
circumstances come to light between
sentence and execution ; immense
exertions are made by humane men;
time is gained, and the innocence of

the condemned person completely esta*
blished< iln Elizabeth Caning*8 case,
two women were capitally convicted,
ordered for execution — and at last
found innocent, and respited. Such,
too, was the case of the men who
were sentenced, ten years ago, for the
robbery of Lord Cowper's steward.
"I have myself (says Mr. Scarlett)
of tern, seen persons I thought innocent
convicted, and the guilty escape, for
want of some acute and intelligent
counsel to show the bearings of the
different circumstances on the conduct
and situation of the prisoner." — {House
of Commons Debates, April 25th, 1 826.)
We are delighted to see, in this last,
debate, both Mr. Brougham and Mr.
Scarlett profess themselves friendly to
Mr.. Lamb's motion.

Bat in how many cases has the in-
justice proceeded without any suspi-
cion being excited? and even if we
could reckon upon men being watch-
ful in capital cases, where life is con*
cerned, we are afraid it is in such cases
alone that they ever besiege the Secre-
tary of State, and compel his atten-
tion. We never remember any such
interference to save a man unjustly
condemned- to the hulks or the tread-
mill; and yet tliere are certainly more
condemnations of these minor punish-
ments than to the gallows: but then it
is all one ^- who knows or cares about
it? If Harrison or Johnson has been
condemned, after regular trial by juiy,
to six months' tread-mill, because
Harrison and Johnson were without
a penny to procure evidence — who
knows or cares about Harrison or
Johnson ?^ how can they make them-
selves heard? or in what way can
they obtain redress? It worries rich
and comfortable people to hear the
humanity of our penal laws called in
question. There is a talk of a society
for employing discharged prisoners:
might not something be effected by a
society instituted for the purpose of
providing to poor prisoners, a proper
defence, and a due attendance of wit-
nesses? But we must hasten on from
this disgraceful neglect of poor pri-
soners, to the particular subject of com*
plaint we have proposed to ourselves*

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

109

The proposition is, That the pri-
soner accused of fdony ougJit to have
the same power of selecting counsel to
speak for him as he has in cases of
6'eason and misdemeanour^ and as de-
fendant have in cUl civU actions.

Nothing can be done in any discus-
sion upon any point of law in Eng-
land, without quoting Mr. Justice
Blackstone. Mr. Justice Blackstone,
we believe, generally wrote his Com-
mentaries late in the evening, with a
bottle of wine before him ; and little
did bethink, as each sentence fell from
the glass and pen, of the immense in-
fluence it might hereafter exercise
upon the laws and usages of his conn-
try. "It is," says this favourite
writer, ** not at all of a piece with the
rest of the humane treatment of pri-
soners by the English law ^ for upon
what face of reason can that assist-
ance be denied to save the life of a
man, which yeti is allowed him in pro-
secutions for every petty trespass?"
Nor, indeed, strictly speaking, is it a
part of our ancient law; for the Mir-
ror, having observed the necessity of
counsel in civil suits, who know how
to forward and defend the cause by the
rules of law and customs of the realm,
immediately subjoin?, ** and more ne-
cessary are they for defence upon in-
dictment and appeals of felony, than
upon any other venial crimes.*' To
the authority of Blackstone may be
added that of Sir John Hall,infiollis's
case; of Sir Robert Atkyns, in Lord
Knssell's case ; and of Sir Bartholomew
Shower, in the arguments for a New
Bill of Rights, in 1682. ♦* In the name
of God," says this judge, ** what harm
can accrue to the public in general, or
to any man in particular, that, in cases
of State-treason, counsel should not be
allowed to the accused? What rule
of justice is there to warrant its de-
nial, when, in a civil case of a half-
penny cake, he may plead either by
himself or by his advocate? That the
Court is counsel for the prisoner can
be no effectual reason ; for so they are
for each party, that right maybe done."
--{Somers^ Tracts, vol. ii. p. 668.) In
the trial of Thomas Rosewell, a dis-
lenting clergyman, for high treason, in

1684, Judge Jeffries^ in summing up,
confessed to the jury, " that he thought
it a hard cade, that a man should have
counsel to defend himself for a two-
penny trespass, and his witnesses be
examined upon oath; but if he stole,
committed murder or felony, nay, high
treason, where life, estate, honour, and
all were concerned, that he should
neither have counsel, nor have his
witnesses examined upon oath." —
(JSowelts State Trialsy vol. x. p. 207.)
There have been two capital errors
in the criminal codes of feudal Europe,
from which a great variety of mistake
&nd injustice have proceeded : the one,
a disposition to confound accusation
Avith guilt ; the other, to mistake a de-
fence of prisoners accused by the
Crown, for disloyalty and disaffection
to the Crown ; and from these errors
our own code has been slowly and
gradually recovering, by all those
straggles and exertions which it
always costs to remove foUy sanctioned
hy antiquity. In the early periods of
our history, the accused person could
call no evidence :— then for a long
time, his evidence against the King
could not be examined upon oath ;
consequently, he might as well have
produced none, as all the evidence
against him was upon oath. Till the
reign of Anne, no one accused of
felony could produce witnesses upon
Oath ; and the old practice was vindi-
cated, in opposition to the new one,
introduced under the statute of that
day, on the grounds of humanity and
tenderness to the prisoner ! because,
as his witnesses were not restricted by
an oath, they were at liberty to indulge
in simple falsehood as much as they
pleased ; — so argued the blessed de-
fenders of nonsense in those days.
Then it was ruled to be indecent and
improper that counsel should be em-
ployed against the Crown ; and, there-
fore, the prisoner accused of treason
could have no counsel. In like manner,
a party accused of felony could have
no counsel to assist him in the trial.
Counsel might indeed stay in the court,
but apart from the prisoner, with whom
they could have no communication.
They were not allowed to put any

no

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

question, or to suggest any doubtful
point of law ; but if the prisoner
(likely to be a weak unlettered man)
could himself suggest any doubt in
matter of law, the Court determined
first if the question of law should be
entertained, and then assigned counsel
to argue it. In those times, too, the
jury were punishable if they gave a
false verdict against the King, but were
not punishable if they gave a false
verdict against the prisoner. The pre-
amble of the Act of 1696 runs thus :
— ** Whereas it is expedient that per-
sons charged with high treason should
make a full and snfiBcient defence.**
Might it not be altered to persons
charged with any species or degree of
crime f All these errors have given
way to the force of truth, and to the
power of common sense and common
humanity — the Attorney and Solicitor
General, for the time being, always
protesting against each alteration, and
regularly and officially prophesying the
utter destruction of the whole jurispru-
dence of Great Britain. There is no
man nOw alive perhaps, so utterly
foolish, as to propose, that prisoners
should be prevented from producing
evidence upon oath, and being heard
by their counsel in cases of high trea-
son ; and yet it cost a struggle for seven
sessions to get this measure through
the two houses of Parliament. But
mankind are much like the children
they beget — they always make wry
faces at what is to do them good ; and
it is necessary sometimes to hold tlie
nose, and force the medicine down the
throat. They enjoy the health and
vigour consequent upon the medicine ;
but cuff the doctor, and sputter at his
stuff !

A most absurd argument was ad-
vanced in the honourable House, that
the practice of employing counsel
would be such an expense to the pri-
soner I — just as if anything was so
expensive as being hanged ! What a
fine topic for the ordinary ! ** You are
going" (says that exquisite divine) **to
be hanged to-morrow, it is true, but
consider what a sum you have saved !
Mr. Scarlett or' Mr. Brougham might
certainly have presented arguments to

the jury, which would have insar^d
your acquittal ; but do you forget that
gentlemen of their eminence must be
recompensed by large fees, and that,
if your life had been saved, you would
actually have been out of pocket above
20/.? You will now die with the
consciousness of having obeyed the
dictates of a wise economy ; and with
a grateful reverence for the laws of
your country, which prevents you from
running into such unbounded expense
-*-so let us now go to prayers."

It is ludicrous enough to recollect,
when the employment of counsel is
objected to on account of the expense
to the prisoner, that the same merciful
law, which, to save the prisoner'ti
money, has denied him counsel, and
produced his conviction, seizes upon
all his savings the moment he is con-
victed.

Of all false and foolish dieta^ the
most trite and the most absurd is that
which asserts that the Judge is coun-
sel for the prisoner. We do not hesi-
tate to say that this is merely an
unmeaning phrase, invented to defend
a pernicious abuse. The Judge cannot
be counsel for the prisoner, ought not to
be counsel for the prisoner, never is
counsel for the prisoner. To force an
ignorant man into a court of justice,
and to tell him that the Judge is his
counsel, appears to us quite as foolish
as to set a hungry man down to his
meals, and to tell him that the table
was his dinner. In the first place, a
counsel should always have private and
previous communication with the pri-
soner, which the Judge, of coarse,
cannot have. The prisoner reveals to
his .counsel how far he is guilty, or he
is not ; states to him all the circum-
stances of his case — and might often
enable his advocate, if his advocate
were allowed to speak, to explain a
long string of circumstantial evidence
in a manner favourable to the inno-
cence of his client. Of all these ad-
vantages, the Judge, if he bad every
disposition to befriend the prisoner, is
of course deprived. Something occurs
to a prisoner in the course of the cause ;
he suggests it in a whisper to his coini-
sel, doubtful if it is a wise point to

COUNSEL FOB PBISOKERa

111

urge or not His counsel thinks it of
importance, and would urge it, if his
mouth were not shut. Can a prisoner
have this secret communication with a
Judge, and take his advice, whether or
not he, the Judge, shall mention it to
the jury ? The counsel has (after all
the evidence has been given) a bad
opinion of his client's case ; but he
suppresses that opinion ; and it is duty
to do so. He is not to decide ; that is
the province of the jury ; and in spite
of his own opinion, his client may be
innocent. He is brought there (or
would be brought there if the privilege
of speech were allowed) for the ex-
press purpf)S6 of saying all that could
be said on one side of the question.
He is a weight in one scale, and some
one else holds the balance. This is the
way in which truth is elicited in civil,
and would be in criminal oases. But
does the Judge ever assume the appear-
ance of believing a prisoner to be in-
nocent whom he thinks to be guilty ?
If the prisoner advances inconclusive
or weak arguments, does not the Judge
say they are weak and inconclusive,
and does he not often sum up against
his own client ? How then is he coun-
sel for the prisoner ? If the counsel
for the prisoner were to see a strong
point, which the counsel for the prose-
cution had missed,, would he supply
the deficiency of his antagonist, and
nrge what had been neglected to be
nrged? But is it not the imperious
duty of the Judge to do so ? How
then can these two functionaries stand
in the same relation to the prisoner ?
In fact, the only meaning of the phrase
is this, that the Judge will not suffer
any undue advantage to be taken of
the ignorance and helplessness of the
prisoner — that he wiU point out any
evidence or circumstance in his favour
^and see that equal justice is done to
both parties. But in this sense he is
as mnch the counsel of the prosecutor
>8 of the prisoner. This is all the Judge
can do, or even^retends to do ; but he
can have no previous communication
with the prisoner — he can have no
confidentifid communication in court
with the prisoner before he sums up ;
he cannot fling the whole weight of his

nndersCanding inta the opposite scale
against the counsel for the prosecution,
and produce that collision of faculties,
which, in all other cases but those of
felony, is supposed to be the happiest
method of arriving at truth. Baron
Garrow, in his charge to the grand
jury at Exeter, on the 16th of August,
1824, thus expressed his opinion of a
Judge being counsel for the prisoner:
— **It has been said, and truly said,
that in criminal courts, Judges were
counsel for the prisoners. So undoubt-
edly they were, as far as they could to
prevent undue prejudice, to guard
against improper influence being ex-
cited against prisoners ; but it was
impossible for them to go further than
this ; for they could not suggest the
course of detience prisoners ought to
pursue s for Judges only saw the depo-
sitions so short a time before the ac-
cused appeared at the bar of their
country, that it was quite impossible
for them to act fully in that capacity.*'
The learned Baron might have added,
that it would be more correct to call
the Judge counsel for the prosecution ;
for his only previous instructions were
the depositions for the prosecution,
from which, in the absence of counsel,
he examined the evidence against the
prisoner. On the prisoner's behalf he
had no instructions at all.

Can anything, then, be more fla-
grantly and scandalously unjust, than,
in a long case of circumstantial evi-
dence, to refuse to a prisoner the benefit
of counsel ? A foot-mark, a word, a
sound, a tool dropped, all gave birth
to the most ingenious inferences ; and
the counsel for the prosecution is so far
from being blamable for entering into
all these things, that they are all essen-
tial to the detection of guilt, and they
are all links of a long and intricate
chain : but if a close examination into,
and a logical statement of, all these
circumstances be necessary for the es-
tablishment of guilt, is not the same
closeness of reasoning, and the same
logical statement necessary for the es-
tablishment of innocence ? If justice
cannot be done to ■ society without the
intervention of a practised and inge-
nious mind, who may connect all these

112

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

links together, and make them clear to
the apprehension of a jary, can justice
be done to the prisoner, unless similar
practice and similar ingenuity are em-
ployed to detect the flaws of the chain,
and to point out the disconnection of
the circumstances ?

Is there any one gentleman in the
House of Commons, who, in yielding
his vote to this paltry and perilous fal-
lacy of the Judge being counsel for the
prisoner, does not feel, that, were he
himself a criminal, he would prefer
almost any counsel at the bar, to the
tender mercies of the Judge ? How
strange that any man who could make
his election would eagerly and dili-
gently surrender this exquisite privi-
lege, and addict himself to the perilous
practice of giving fees to counsel !
Nor let us forget, in considering Judges
as counsel for the prisoner, that there
have been such men as Chief Justice
Jeffries, Mr. Justice Page, and Mr.
Justice Aly bone, and that, in bad times,
such men may reappear. . ** If you do
not allow me counsel, my Lords (says
Lord Lovat), it is impossible for me to
make any defence, by reason of my in-
firmity. I do not see, I do not hear. I
come up to the bar at the hazard of my
life. I have fainted several times ; I
have been up so early, ever since four
o'clock this morning. I therefore ask
for assistance ; and if you do not allow
me counsel, or such aid as is necessary,
it will be impossible for me to make
any defence at alL" Though Lord
Lovat's guilt was evident, yet the man-
agers of the impeachment felt so
strongly the injustice which w&s done,
that, by the hands of Sir W. Young,
the chief manager, a bill was brought
into Parliament to allow counsel to
persons impeached by that House,
which was not previously the case ; so
that the evil is already done away with,
in a great measure, to persons of rank.*
it so happens in legislation, when a
gentleman suffers, public attention is
awakened to the evil of laws. Every
man who makes laws says, ** This may
be my case :'* but it requires the re-
peated efforts of humane men, or, as
Mr. North calls them dilettanti philo-
sophers, to awaken the attention of

law-makers to evils from which they
are themselves exempt. We do not
say this to make the leaders of man-
kind unpopular, but to rouse their ear-
nest attention in cases where the poor
only are concerned, and where neither
good nor evil can happen to themselves.

A great stress is laid upon the mod-
eration of the*opening counsel ; that
is, he does not conjure the farmers in
the jury-box, by the love which they
bear to their children — he does not
declaim upon blood-guiltiness — he does
not describe the death of Abel by Cain,
the first murderer — he does not de-
scribe scattered brains, ghastly wounds,
pale features, and hair clotted with gore
— he does not do a thousand things,
which are not in English taste, and
which it would be very foolish and
very vulgar to do. We readily allow-
all this. But yet, if it be a canse of
importance, it is essentially necessary
to our counsellor's reputation that this
man should be hung! And accord-
ingly, with a very calm voice, and
composed manner, and with many ex-
pressions of candour, he sets himself
to comment astutely upon the circam-
stances. Distant events are immedi-
ately connected ; meaning is given to
insignificant facts ; new motives are
ascribed -to innocent actions ; farmer
gives way after farmer in the jury-box ;
and a rope of eloquence is woven
round the prisoner's neck I Every one
is delighted with the talents of the
advocate $ and, because there has been
no noise, no violent action, and no
consequent perspiration, he is praised
for his candour and forbearance, and
the lenity of our laws is the theme of
universal approbation. In the mean-
time, the speech-maker and the pri-
soner know better.

We should be glad to know of any
one nation in the world, taxed by kings,
or even imagined by poets (except the
English), who have refused to prisoners
the benefit of coansel| Why is the
voice of humanity heard everywhere
else, and disregarded here ? In Scot-
land, the accused have not only coun-
sel to speak for them, but a copy of the
indictment, and a list of the witnesses.
In France, in the NeUierlfuids, in the

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

113

whole of Europe, counsel are allotted
as a matter of course. Everywhere
else but here, accnaation is considered
as unfavourable to the exercise of ho-
man faculties. It is admitted to be
that crisis in which, above all others,
aa unhappy man wants the aid of
eloquence, wisdom, and coolness. In
France, the Napoleon Code has pro-
vided not only that counsel should be
allowed to the prisoner, but that, as
with us in Scotland, his counsel should
have the last word.

It is a most affecting moment in a
court of justice when the evidence has
all been heard, and the Judge asks the
prisoner what he has to say in his de-
fence. The prisoner, who baa ( by great
exertions, perhaps of his friends) saved
up money enough to procure counsel,
says to the Judge, ** that he leaves his
defence to his counsel. " We have often
blushed for English humanity to hear
the reply. ** Your counsel cannot speak
for you, you must speak for yourself ;"*
and this is the reply given to a poor
girl of eighteen — to a foreigner — to
a deaf man — ^to a stammerer — to the
sick— to the feeble — to the old — to
the most abject and ignorant of human
beings I It is a reply, we must say, at
which common sense and common
feeling revolt: — for it is full of brutal
cruelty, and of base inattention of
those who make laws, to the happiness
of those for whom laws were made.
We wonder that any juryman can con-
vict under such a shocking violation of
all natural justice. The iron age of
Clovis and Clottaire can produce no
more atrocious violation of every good
feeling, and every good principle. Can
a sick man find strength and nerves to
speak before a large assembly ? — can
an ignorant man find words ? — can a
low man find confidence ? Is not be
afraid of becoming an object of ridi-
cule ? — can he believe that hisexjM'es-
sions will be understood ? How often
liave we seen a poor wretch, struggling
against the agonies of his spirit^ and
the rudeness of his conceptions^ and
his awe of better-dressed men and
better-taught men, and the shame which
the accusation has brought upon his
head, and the sight of his parents and

Vol. IL •

children gazing at him in the Court,
for the last time, perhaps, and after a
long absence ! The mariner sinking
in the wave does not want a helping
hand more than does this poor wretch.
But help is denied to all t Age cannot
have it,, nor ignorance, nor the modesty
of women I One hard uncharitable rule
silences the defenders of the wretched,
in the worst of human evils ; and at
the bitterest of human moments, mercy
is blotted out from the ways of men I

Suppose a crime to have been com-
mitted under the influence of insanity ;
is the insane man, now convalescent^
to plead his own insanity? — to offer
arguments to show that he must have
been mad ? — and, by the glimmerings
of his returning reason, to prove that
at a former period that same reason was
utterly extinct ? These are the cruel
situations into which Judges and
Courts of Justice are thrown by the
present state of the law.

There is a Judge now upon the
Bench, who never took away the life
of a fellow-creature without shutting
himself up alone, and giving the most
profound attention to every circum-
stance of the case ! and this solema
act he always premises with his owa
beautiful prayer to Grod, that he will
enlighten him with his Divine Spirit in
the exercise of this terrible privilege I
Now, would it not be an immense
satisfaction to this feeling and honour-
able magistrate, to be sure that every
witness on the side of the prisoner had
been heard, and that every argument
which could be urged in his favour
had been brought forward, by a man
whose duty it was to see only on one
side of the question, and whose interest
and reputation were thoroughly em-
barked in this partial exertion ? If a
Judge fail to get at the truth, after these
instruments of investigation are usedv
his failure must be attributed to the
limited powers of man — not to the
want of good inclination, or wise in-
stitutions. We are surprised that such
a measure does not come into Parlia-
ment, with the strong recommendation
of the Judges. It is surely better te
be a day longer on the circuit, than te
murder rapidly in ermine.

1

114

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

it is argned, that, among the varioas
pleas for mercy that are offered, no
prisoner has ever urged to the Secre-
tary of State the disadvantage of hav-
ing no coansel to plead for him ; hut
a prisoner who dislikes to undergo his
sentence natnrali j addresses to those
who can reverse it snch arguments only
as will produce, in the opinion of the
referee, a pleasing effect. He does
not therefore find fault with the es-
tablished system of jurispradence, but
brings forward facts and argtiments to
prove his own innocence. Besides,
how few people there are who can
elevate themselves from the acquies-
cence in what is, to the ^consideration
of what ought to bet <uid if they could
do so, the way to get rid of a punish-
ment is not (as we have just observed)
to say, ** You have no right to punish
me in this manner/* but to say, ** I am
innocent of the offence." The frau-
dulent baker at Constantinople, who is
about to be baked to death in his own
oven, does not complain of the severity
of baking bakers, but promises to use
more flour and less fraud.

Whence comes it (we should like to
ask Sir John Singleton Copley, who \
seems to dread so much the conflicts
of talent in criminal cases) that a
method of getting at truth which is
found so serviceable in -civil cases
should be so much objected to in
"criminal cases ? Would you have all
this wrangling and bickering, it is
asked, and contentious eloquence,
when the life of a man is concerned ?
Why not, as well as when his property
is concerned ? It is either a good
means of doing justice, or it is not,
that two understandings should be put
in opposition to each other, and that ;
a third should decide between them.
Does this open evecy view which can
4>ear upon the question ? Does it in
the most effectual manner watch the
Judge, detect perjuiy, and sift evi-
dence ? If not, why is it snfiered to
disgrace our civil institutions ? If it
effect all these objects, why is it not
incorporated into our criminal law ?
Of what importance is a little disgust
at professional tricks, if the solid ad-
vantage gained be a neansr approxi-

mation to truth ? Can anything be
more preposterous than this preference
of taste to justice, and of solemnity ta
truth f What an eulogium of a trial
to say, ** I am by no means satisfied
that the Jury were right in finding the
prisoner guilty ; but everything was
carried on with the utmost decorum !
The verdict was wrong ; but there was
the most perfect propriety and order
in the proceedings. The man will be
un&irly hanged ; bat all was genteel ! "
If solemnity is what is principally
wanted in a court of justice, we had
better study the manners of the old
Spanish Inquisition ; but if battles
with the Judge, and battles among the
counsel, are the best method, as they
certainly are, of getting at the truth,
better tolerate this philosophical Bil-
lingsgate, than persevere, because the
life of a man is at stake, in solemn
and polished injustice.

Wliy should it not be just as wise
and equitable to leave the defendant
without counsel in civil cases — and
to tell him that the Judge was his
counsel ? And if the reply is to pro-
duce such injurious effects as are anti-
cipated upon the minds of the Jury
in criminal cases, why not in civil
cases also ? In twenty-eight cases
out of thirty, the verdict in civil cases
is correct ; in the two remaining cases,
the error may proceed from other
causes than the right of reply ; and
yet the right of reply has existed in
all. In a vast majority of cases, the
verdict is for the plaintiff, not because
there is a right of reply, but because
he who has it in his power to decide
whether he will go to law or not, and
resolves to expose himself to the ex-
pense and trouble of a lawsuit, has
probably a good foundation for his
claim. Nobody, of course, can intend
to say that the majority of verdicts in
favour of plaintifis are against justice,
and merely attributable to the advan-
tage of a last speech. If this were the
case, the sooner advocates are turned
out of court the better — and then
the improvement of both civil and
criminal law would be an abolition of
all speeches ; for those who dread the
effBct of the last word upon the fate of

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

115

the prisoner mast remember that there
is at present always a last speech
against the prisoner ; for, as the ooan-
sel for the prosecution cannot be re-
plied to, his is the last speech.

There is certainly this difference
between a civil and a criminal case—
that in one a new trial can be gp^nted,
in the other not. Bat jon most first
make up jonr mind whether this system
of contentions investigation by opposite
advocates is or is not the best method
of getting at truth : if it be, the more
irremediable the decision, the more
powerful and perfect shonld be the
means of deciding; and then it would
be a less oppression if the civil de-
fendant were deprived of counsel than
the criminal prisoner. When an error
has been committed, the advantage is
greater to the latter of these persons
than to the former; — ^the criminal is
not tried again, but paid9ned ; while
the civil defendant must run the chance
of another Jury.

If the efiect of reply, and the con-
tention of counsel, have all these bane-
ful consequences in felony, why not
also in misdemeanour and high trea-
wm ? Half the cases at Sessions are
cases of misdemeanour, where counsel
are employed and half-informed Jus-
tices preside instead of learned Judges.
There are no complaints of the unfair-
ness of verdicts, though there are every
now and then of the severity of punish-
ments. Now, if the reasoning of Mr.
Iamb's opponents were true, the- dis-
tnrbing force of the prisoner's counsel
must fling everything into confusion.
The Court for misdemeanours must be
a scene of riot and perplexity; and
the detection and punishment of crime
mnst be utterly impossible: and yet in
the very teeth of these objections, such
courts of justice are just as orderly in
one set of offences as the other ; and
the conviction of a guilty person just
as certain and as easy.

The prosecutor (if this system were
altered) would have the choice of
counsel; so he has now — with this
difference, that, at present, his counsel
cannot be answered nor opposed. It
would be better in all cases, if two men
of exactly equal talent could be opposed

to each other; but as this is impossiblot
the system must be taken with its in-
convenience; but there can be no
inequality between counsel so great as
that between any counsel and the pri-
soner pleading for himself. **It has
been lately my lot," says Mr. Denman,
'*to try two prisoners who were deaf and
dumb,«nd who could only be made to
understand what was passing by the
signs of their friends. The cases were
clear and simple ; but if they had been
circumstantial cases, in what a situation
would the Judge and Jury be placed,
when the prisoner could have no coun-
sel to plead for him ! " — (Debater of the
House of Commons^ April 25, 1826.)

The folly of being counsel for your-
self is 80 notorious in civil cases, that
it has grown into a proverb. But the
cruelty of the law compels a man, in
criminal cases, to be guilty of a much
greater act of folly, and to trust his life
to an advocate, who, by the common
sense of mankind, is pronounced to be
inadequate to defend the possession of
an acre of land.

In all cases it must be supposed,
that reasonably convenient instruments
are selected to effect the purpose in
view. A Judge may be commonly
presumed to understand his profession,
and a Jury to have a fan* allowance of
common sense; but the objectors to the
improvement we recommend appear to
make no such suppositions. Counsel
are always to make flashy addresses to
the passions. Juries are to be so much
struck with them, that they are always
to acquit or to condenm, contrary to
justice ; and Judges are always to be so
biassed, that they are to fling them-
selves rashly into the opposite scale
against the prisoner. Many cases of
ndisdemeanour consign a man to in-
famy, and cast a blot upon his posterity.
Judges and Juries must feel these cases
as strongly as any cases of felony; and
yet, in spite of this, and in spite of the
free permission of counsel to speak,
they preserve their judgment, and
command their feelings surprisingly.
Gknerally speaking, we believe none of
these eviiswouldtaJEe place. Trumpery
declamation would be considered as
discreditable to the counsel, and would

I 2

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

;116

be disregarded hj the Jury. The Judge
and Jury (as in civil cases) would gain
the habit of looking to the facts, select-
ing the arguments, and coming to rea-
sonable conclusions. It is so in all
other countries — and it would be so in
this. But the vigilance of the Judge
is to relax, if there is counsel for the
prisoner. Is, then, the relaxed vigil-
ance of the Judges complained of, in
hi|rh treason, in misdemeanour, or in
civil cases ? This appears to us really
to shut up the debate, and to preclude
reply. Why is the practice so good in
all other cases, and so pernicious in
felony alone? This question has never
received eyen the shadow of an answer.
There is no one objection against the
allowance of counsel to prisoners in
felony,- which does not apply to them
in all cases. If the vigilance of Judges
depend upon this injustice to the pri-
soner, then, the greater injustice to the
prisoner, the more vigilance; and so
the true method of perfecting the
' Bench would be, to deny the prisoner
the power of calling witnesses, and to
increase as much as possible the dis-
parity between the accuser and the
accused* We hope men are selected
for the Judges of Israel whose vigil-
ance depends upon better and higher
principles.

There are three methods of arranging
a trial, as to the mode of employing
counsel — that both parties should have
counsel, or neither — or only one. The
first method is the best ; the second is
preferable to the last ; and the last, which
is our present system, is the worst pos-
sible. K counsel were denied to either
of the parties, if it be necessary that
any system of jurisprudence should be
disgraced by such an act of injustice,
they should rather be denied to the
prosecutor than to the prisoner.

But the most singular caprice of the
law is, that counsel are permitted in
very high crimes, and in very small
crimes, and denied in crimes of a sort
of medium description. In high treason,
where you mean to murder I^rd Liver-
pool, and to levy war against the
people, and to blow up the two Houses
of Parliament, all the lawyers of

dry, and the Jury deaf. Lord Eldon,
when at the bar, has been heard for
nine hours on such subjects. If, in-
stead of producing the destruction of
five thousand people, you are indicted
for the murder of one person, here
human faculties, from the diminution
of guilt, are supposed to be so dear
and so unclouded, that the prisoner is
quite adequate to make his own de-
fence, and no counsel are allowed.
Take it then upon that principle, and
let the rule, and the reason of it, pass
as sufficient. But if, instead of mur-
dering the man, you have only libelled
him, then, for some reason or another,
though utterly unknown to us, the
original imbecility of faculties in ac-
cused persotis is respected, and counsel
are allowed. Was ever such nonsense
defended by public men in grave as-
semblies ? The prosecutor, too, (as
Mr. Horace Twiss justly observes,) can
either allow or disallow counsel, by
selecting his form of prosecution ; — r
as where a mob had assembled to re-
peal, by riot and force, some unpopular
statute, and certain persons had con-
tinued in that assembly for more thaa
an hour after proclamation to disperse.
That might be treated as levying war
against the King, and then the prisoner
would be entitled to receive (as Lord
George Gordon did receive) the benefit
of counsel. It might also be treated
as a seditious rite ; then it would be a
misdemeanour, and counsel would still
be allowed. But if government had
a mind to destroy the prisoner effectu-
ally, they have only to abstain froQ
the charge of treason, and to introduce
into the indictment the aggravatioiv
that the prisoner had continued with the
mob for an hour after proclamation to
disperse ; this is a felony, the prisoner's
life is in jeopardy, and counsel are
effectually excluded. It produces, in
many other cases disconnected with
treason, the most scandalous injusr
tice. A receiver of stolen goods, who
employs a young girl to rob her master,
may be tried for the misdemeanour ;
the young girl taken afterwards would
be tried for the felony. The receiver
would be punishable only with fine^
.Westminster Hall may tialk, themselves I imprisonment, or whipping, and h«

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

117

coald have counsel to defend hinL
The girl indicted for felonj, and liable
to death, would enjoy no such advan-
tage.

In the comparison between felony
and treason there are certainly some
argaments why counsel should be al-
lowed in felony rather than in treason.
Persons accused of treason are gene-
rally persons of education and rank,
accustomed to assemblies, and to
public speaking, while men accused
of felony are commonly of the lowest
of the people. If it be true, that
Judges in cases of high treason are
more liable to be influenced by the
Crown, and to lean against the prisoner,
this cannot apply to cases of misde-
meanour, or to the defendants in civil
cases ; but if it be necessary, that
Judges should be watched in political
cases, how often are cases of felony
connected with political disaffection I
Every Judge, too, has his idiosyncrasies,
vhich require to be watched. Some
hate Dissenters — some mobs ; some
have one weakness, some another;
and the ultimate truth is, that no court
of justice is safe, unless there is some
one present whose occupation and in-
terest it is to watch the safety of the
prisoner. Till then, no man of right
teeUng can be easy at the administra-
tion of justice, and the punishment of
death.

Two men are accused of one offence;
the one dexterous, bold, subtle, gifted
with speech, and remarkable for pre*
sence of mind ; the other timid, hesi-
tating, and confused — is there any
reason why the chances of these two
men for acquittal should be, as they
are, so very different ? Inequalities
there will be in the means of defence
under the best system, but there is no
occasion tho law should make these
greater than they are left by chance or
nature.

But (it is asked) what practical in-
justice is done — what practical evil is
there in the present system? The
^reat object of all law is, that the guilty
should be punished, and that the inno-
cent should be acquitted. A very
great majority of prisoners, we admit,
are guilty — and so dearly guilty,

that we believe they would be found
guilty under any system ; but among
the number of those who are tried,
some are innocent, and the chance of
establishing their innocence is very
much diminished by the privation of
counsel In the course of twenty or
thirty years, among the whole mass of
English prisoners, we believe many are
found guilty who are innocent, and
who would not have been found guilty,
if an able and intelligent man had
watched over their interest, and repre-
sented their case. If this happen only
to two or three every year, it is quite
a sufficient reason why the law should
be altered. That such cases exist we
firmly believe ; and this is the practi-
cal evil — perceptible to men of sense
and reflection ; but not likely to be-
come the subject of general petition.
To ask why there are not petitions —
why the evil is not more noticed, is
mere parliamentary froth and minis-
terial juggling. Gentlemen are rarely
hung. If they were so, there would
be petitions without end for counsel.
The creatures exposed to the cruelties
and injustice of the law are dumb
creatures, who feel the evil without
being able to express their feeling.
Besides, the question is not, whether
the evil is found out, but whether the
evil exist. Whoever thinks it is an
evil, should vote against it, whether
the sufferer from the injustice discover
it to be an injustice, or whether he
suffer in ignorant silence. When the
bill was enacted, which allowed coun-
sel for treason, there was not a petition
from one end of England to the other.
Can there be a more shocking answer
from the Ministerial Bench, than to
say. For real evil we care nothing —
only for detected evil ? We will set
about curing any wrong which affects
our popularity and power : but as to
any other evil, we wait till the people
find it out ; and, in the meantime,
commit such evils to the care of Mr.
George Lamb, and of Sir James Mack-
intosh. We are sure so good a man
as Mr. Peel can never feel in this
manner.

Howard devoted himself to his-
country. It was a noble example.-

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118

COUNSEL FOR PRISONER&

Let two gentlemen on the Ministerial
side of the House (we only ask for
two) commit some crimes, which will
render their execution a matter of
painful necessity. Let them feel, and
report to the House, all the injustice
and inconvenience of having neither a
copy of the indictment, nor a list of
witnesses, nor counsel to defend them.
We will venture to say, that the evi-
dence of two such persons would do
more for the improvement of the crim-
inal law, than all the orations of Mr.
Lamb, or the lucubrations of Beccaria.
Such evidence would save time, and
bring the question to an issue. It is a
great duty, and ought to be fulfilled —
and in ancient Rome, would have been
fulfilled.

The opponents always forget that
Mr. Lamb's plan is not to compel
prisoners to have counsel, but to allow
them to have counsel, if they choose
to do so. Depend upon it, as Dr.
Johnson says, when a man is going to
be hanged, his faculties are wonder-
fully concentrated. If it b^ really
true, as the defenders of Mumpsimus
observe, that the Judge is the best
counsel for the prisoner, the prisoner
will soon learn to employ him, especi-
ally as his Lordship works without
fees. All that we want is an option
given to the prisoner — that a man, left
to adopt his own means of defence in
every trifling civil right, may have the
same power of selecting his own auxi-
liaries for higher interests.

But nothing can be more unjust than
to speak of Judges, as if they were of
one standard, and one heart and head
pattern. The great majority of Judges,
we have no doubt, are upright and
pure ; but some have been selected for
flexible politics — some are passionate
— some are in a hurry — some are
violent churchmen — some resemble
ancient females — some have the gout
— some are eighty years old — some
are blind, deaf, and have lost the power
of smelling. All one to the unhappy
prisoner — he has no choice.

It is impossiUe to put so gross an
insult upon Judges, Jurymen, Grand
Jurymen, or any person connected with
the administration of justice, as to sup-

pose that the longer time to be tfik6U up
by the speeches of counsel constitutes
the grand bar to the proposed altera-
tion. If three hours would acquit a
man, and he is hanged because he is
only allowed two hours for his defence,
the poor man is as much murdered as
if his throat had been cut before he came
into Court If twelve Judges cannot
do the most perfect justice, other twelve
must be appointed. Strange adminis-
tration of criminal law, to adhere ob-
stinately to an inadequate number of
Judges, and to refuse any improvement
which is incompatible with this arbi-
trary and capricious enactment. Nei-
ther is it quite certain that the proposed
alteration would create a greater de-
mand upon the time of the Court At
present the coimsel makes a defence by
long cross-examinations, and exami-
nations in chief of the witnesses, and
the Judge allows a greater latitude
than he would do, if the counsel of the
prisoner were permitted to speak. The
counsel by these oblique methods, and
by stating false points of law for the
express purpose of introducing facts,
endeavours to obviate the injustice of
the law, and takes up more time by
this oblique, than he would do by a
direct defence. But the best answer
to this objection of time (which, if true,
is no objection at all) is, that as many
misdemeanours as felonies are tried in
a given time, though counsel are al-
lowed in the former, and not in the
latter case.

One excuse for the absence of coun-
sel is, that the evidence upon which the
prisoner is convicted is always so clear,
that the counsel cannot gainsay it
This is mere absurdity, l^ere is not,
and cannot be, any such rule. Many
a man has been hung upon a string of
circumstantial evidence, which not only
very ingenious men, but very candid
and judicious men, might criticise and
call in question. If no one were found
guilty but upon such evidence as would
not admit of a doubt half the crimes
in the world would be unpunished.
This dictum, by which the presetit
practice has often been defended, was
adopted by Lord Chancellor Notting-
ham. To the lot of this Chancellor,

COUNSEL FOR TRISONERS.

lid

however, it fell to pnss sentence of
death upon Lord Stafford, whom (as
Mr. Denman justly observes) no coart
of justice, not even the House of Lords
(constituted as it was in those days),
eould have put to death, if he had had
counsel to defend him.

To improve the criminal law of
England, and to make it really deser-
^i{g of the incessant enloginm which
i«.^tf fished upon it, we would assimilate
trials for felony to trials for high trea«
son. The prisoner should not only
have counsel, buf a copy of the indict-
ment and a list of the witnesses, many
days antecedent to the trial. It is in
the highest degree unjust that I should
not see and study the description of
the crime with which I am charged, if
the most scrupulous exactness be re-
quired in that instrument which charges
me with crime. If the place tohere^ the
time when, and the manner how, and
the persons by whom, must all be spe-
cified with the most perfect accuracy,
if any deviation from this accuracy is
fatal, the prisoner, or his legal advisers,
should have a full opportunity of
judging whether the scruples of the
law have been attended to in the for-
mation of the indictment ; and they
ought not to be confined to the hasty
and imperfect consideration which can
be given to an indictment exhibited for
the first time in Court. Neither is it
possible for the prisoner to repel accu-
sation till he knows who is to be
brought against him. He may see
suddenly, stuck up in the witness's
box, a man who has been writing him
lett^^ to extort money from the Sireat
of evidence he could produce. The
character of such a witness would be
destroyed in a moment, if the letters
were produced ; and the letters would
have been produced, of course, if the
prisoner had imagined such a person
would have been brought forward by
the prosecutor. It is utterly impossible
for a prisoner to know in what way
he may be assailed, and against what
species of attacks he is to guard. Con-
versations may be brought against him
which he has forgotten, and to which
he could (upon notice) have given
another colour and complexion. Ac-

tions are made to bear upon his case,
which (if he had known they would
have been referred to) might have been
explained in the most satisfactory man-
ner. All these modes of attack are
pointed out by the list of witnesses
transmitted to the prisoner, and he has
time to prepare his answer, as it is
perfectly just he should have. This is
justice, when a prisoner has ample
means of compelling the attendance
of his witnesses ; when his written ac-
cusation is put into his hand, and he
has time to study it — when he knows
in what manner his guilt is to be
proved, and when he has a man of
practised understanding to state his
facts, and prefer his arguments. Then '
criminal justice may march on boldly.
The Judge has no stain of blood on his
ermine ; and the phras€s which En-
glish people are so fond of lavishing
upon the humanity of their laws will
have a real foundation. At present
this part of the law is a mere relic of
the barbarous injustice by which accu-
sation in the early part of our juris-
prudence was always confounded with
guilt. The greater part of these abuses
have been brushed away, as this cannot
fail soon to be. In the meantime it
is defended (as every other abuse has
been defended) by men who think it
their duty to defend everything which
», and to dread everything which is
not We are told that the Judge does
what he does not do, and ought not to
do. The most pernicious effects are
anticipated in trials of felony, from
that which is found to produce the
most perfect justice in civil causes, and
in cases of treason and misdemeanour :
we are called upon to continue a prac-
tice without example in any other
country, and are required by lawyers
to consider that custom as humane,
which every one who is not a lawyer
pronounces to be most cniel and un •
just — and which has not been brought
forward to general notice, only because
its bad effects are confined to the last
and lowest of mankind.*

* All this nonsense is now put an end to.
Counsel is allowed to the prisoner, and they
are permitted to speak in his defenoe.

1 4

I2d

•CATHOLIC QUESTION.

CATHOLICS. (E. Review, 1827.)

- 1, A Plain Statement in eupport qf the
■ Political Claims qftJie Beman Catholice J
in a Letter to the Ben. Sir George Lee^
Bart. By Lord Nugent, Member of Par-
liament for Aylesbuiy. London. Hook-
ham. 1826.
2. A Letter to Vieeount MiUon, M.P. By
One of hia Constituents. London. Bidg-
iray. 1827.
8. Charge by the Archbiehop qf CasheL
Dublin. Milliken.

If a poor man were to accept a gn>inca
npon the condition that he spoke all
the evil he could of another whom be
believed to be innocent, and whose
imprisonment he knew he should pro-
long, and whose privations he knew
he shonld increase by his false testi-
mony, would liot the person so hired
be one of the worst and basest of human
beings ? And would not his guilt be
aggravated, if, up to the moment of
receiving his aceldama, he had spoken
in terms of high praise of the per-
son whom he subsequently accused ?
Would not the latter feature of the
case prove him to be as much without
shame as the foriAer evinced him to be
without principle ? Would the guilt
be less, if the person so hired were a
man of education ? Would it be less,
if he were above want ? Would it be
less, if the profession and occupation
of his life were to decide men's rights,
or to teach them morals and religion ?
Would it be less by the splendour of
the bribe? Does a bribe of 3000/lleave
a man innocent, whom a bribe of 3U/.
would cover with infamy ? You are
of a mature period of Ufe, when the
opinions of an honest man ought to be,
. and are fixed. On Monday you were
a barrister or a conntry clergyman, a
serious and temperate friend to reli-
gions liberty and Catholic . emancipa-
tion. In a few weeks from this time
you are a bishop, or a dean, or a judge
— publishing and speaking charges
and sermons against the poor Catho-
lics, and explaining away this sale of
your soul by every species of falsehood,
shabbiness, and equivocation. You
may caiTy a bit of ermine on your
shoulder, or hide the lower moiety of

the body in a silken petticoat — and
men may call you Mr. Dean, or My
Lord ; but yon have sold your honour
and your conscience for money ; and,
though better paid, you are as base as
the witness who stands ajt the door of
the judgment-hall, to swear whatever
the suborner will p ' '-^t-n his month,
and to receive whate«
his pockeL*

When soldiers exercise, u..
a goodly portly person out of the ranks,
upon whom all eyes are directed, and
whose signs and motions, in the per-^
formance of the manual exercise, all
the soldiers follow. The Germans, we
believe, call him a Flugehnan, We pro-
pose Lord Nugent as a political flugel-
man ; — he is always consistent, plain,
and honest, steadily and straightly
pursuing his object without hope or
tiear, under the influence of good feel-
ings and high principle. The Hoase
of Commons does not contain within
its walls a more honest, upright man. ■

We seize upon the opportunity which
this able pamphlet of his Lordship's
affords us, to renew our attention to
the Catholic question. There is little
new to be said ; but we must not be
silent, or, in these days of baseness
and tergiversation, we shall be sup--
posed to have deserted our friend the
Pope ; and they will say of us, fVos-
tant venales apud Lambeth et WhitehcM.
God forbid it should ever be said of us
with justice — it is pleasant to loll and
roll, and to accumulate — to be a pur-
pie and fine linen man, and to be called
by some of those nicknames which frail
and ephemeral beings are so fond of
accumulating upon each other ; — but
the best thing of all is to live like-
honest men, and to add something to
the cause of liberality, justice, and
truth.

The Letter to Lord Milton is very
well and very pleasantly written. We
are delighted with the liberality and
candour of the Archbishop of Qashel.

• It is very far frova. our intention to sajr
that all who were for the Catholics, and are
now against them, have made this ohauge
from base motives; it is equally fSu* from
our intention not to say that many men of
both professions liave subjected themselves
to this shocking imputation.

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

121

The charge is in the highest degree
creditable to him. He mast lay his
acconnt for the farious hatred of bigots,
and the incessant gnawing of rats.

There are many men who (tho-
Toaghly aware that the Catholic ques-
tion mast be tdtimately carried) delay
their acqaiescence till the last moment,
and wait till the moment of peril and
civil war before they yield. That this
moment is not quite so remote as was
sapposed a twelvemonth since, the
events now passing in the world seem
to afford the strongest proof. The
trath is, that the disaffected state of
Ireland is a standing premium for war
with every cabinet in Europe which
has the most distant intention of quar-
relling with this country for any other
cause. ^ If we are to go to wary hH us
do 80 when the discontents of Ireland
are at their greatest height, before any
spirit of concession has been shown bp
ike British Cabinet^ Does any man
imagine that so plain and obvious a
principle has not been repeatedly urged
on the French Cabinet ? — that the eyes
of the Americans are shut upon the
state of Ireland— and that that great
and ambitious Republic will not, in
case of war, aim a deadly blow at this
most sensitive part of the British em-
pire ? We should really say, that
England has fully as niuch to fear
from Irish fraternisation with America
as with France. The language is the
same ; the Americans have preceded
them in the struggle ; the number of
emigrant and rebel Irish is very great
in America; and all parties are sure
of perfect toleration under the protec-
tion of America. We are astonished
at the madness and folly of English-
men, who do not perceive that both
France and America are only waiting
for a convenient opportunity to go to
war with this country ; and that one
of the first blows aimed at our inde-
pendence would bo the invasion of
Ireland.

We shoald like to argne this matter
with a regular Tory Lord, whose mem-
bers vote steadily against the Catholic
qaestion. "I wonder that mere fear
floes not miike yoa give up the Catho-
Hc question ! Do you mean to put

this fine place in danger — the yenison
—the pictures — the pheasants — the cel-
lars — the hot-house and the grapery ?
Should you like to see six or seyen ^
thousand French or Americans landed
in Ireland, and aided by a universal
insurrection of the Catholics ? Is it
worth your while to run the risk of
their success ? What evil from (he
possible encroachment of Catholics, by
civil exertions, can equal the danger of
such a position as this ? How can a
man of your carriaores, and horses, and
hounds, think of putting your high
fortune in such a predicament, and
crying out, like a schoolboy or a chap-
lain, *0h, we shall beat them ! we
shall put the rascals down I' No Po*
pery, I admit to your Lordship, is a
very convenient cry at an election, and
has answered your end ; but do not
push the matter too far : to bring on
a civil war, for No Popery, is a very
foolish proceeding in a man who hais
two courses and a remove \ As you
value your side-board of plate, your
broad riband, your pier glasses — if
obsequious domestics and large rooms
are dear to you — if you love ease and
flattery, titles and coats of arms — if
the labour of the French cook, the
dedication of the expecting poet, can
more you — if you hope for a long life
of side-dishes — if you are not insen-
sible to the periodical arrival of the
turtle fleets — emancipate the Catho-
lics! Do it for your ease, do it for
your indolence, do it for your safety —
emancipate and eat, emancipate and
drink — emancipate, and preserve the
rent-roll and the family estate I *'

The most common excuse of the
Great Shahby is, that the Catholics are
their own enemies — that the violence
of Mr. O'Connell and Mr. Shiel have
ruined their cause — that, but for these
boisterous courses, the qaestion would
have been carried before this time.
The answer to this nonsense and base-
ness is, that the very reverse is the fact.
The mild and the long-suffering may
sufi^er for ever in this world. If the
Catholics had stood with their hands
before them simpering at the Earls of
Liverpool and the Lords Bathurst of
the moment, they would not have been

122

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

emancipated till the jear of our Lord
four thousand. . As long as the patient
will suffer, the cruel will kick. No trea-
• son — no rebellion — but as much stub-
bornness and stoutness as the law per-
mits — a thorough intimation that you
know what is your due, and that you
are determined to have it if you can
lawfdbf get it. This is the conduct we
recommend to the Irish. If they go on
withholding, and forbearing, and hesi-
tating whether this is the time for the
discussion or that is the time, they will
be laughed at for another century as
fools — and kicked for another century
as slaves. ** I must have my bill paid
(says the sturdy and irritated trades-
man) ; your master has put me off
twenty times under different pretences.
I know he is at home, and I will not
quit the premises till I get the money."
Many a tradesman gets paid in this
manner, who would soon smirk and
smile himself into the Gazette, if he
trusted to the promises of the great.

Can anything be so utterly childish
and foolish as to talk of the bad taste
of the Catholic leaders ? — as if, in a
question of conferring on, or withhold-
ing important civil rights from seven
millions of human beings, anything
could arrest the attention of a wise man
but the good or evil consequences of so
great a measure. Suppose Mr. S. does
smell slightly of tobacco — admit Mr.
L. to be occasionally stimulated by
rum and water — allow that Mr. F. was
unfeeling in speaking of the Duke of
York — what has all this nonsense to do
with the extinction of religious hatred
and the pacification of Ireland? Give it
if it is right, refuse it if it is wrong. How
it is asked, or how it is given or refused,
are less than the dust of the balance.
. What is the real reason why a good
honest Twy, living at ease on his
possessions, is an enemy to Catholic
Emancipation ? He admits the Catho-
lic of his own rank to be a gentleman,
and not a bad subject — and about
theological disputes an excellent Tory
never troubles his head. Of what im-
portance is it to him whether an Irish
Catholic or an Irish Protestant is a
Judge in the King's Bench at Dub-
lin ? None I but / am afraid for the

Church of Ireland^ says our alarmist.
Why do you care so much for the
Church of Ireland, a country you
never live in? — Answer ^~ I do not
care so much for the Church of Ireland,
\f I woe sure the Church of JEngkutd
would not be destroyed.^^And is it for
the Church of England alone that you
fear ? — Answer — Not quite to thoL
But I am afraid we should all be hst,
that everything would be overturned^
and that I should lose wy rank and my
estate. Here then, we say, is a long
series of dangers, which (if there wera
any chance of their ever taking place)
would require half a century for their
development; and the danger of losing
Ireland by insurrection and invasion,
which may happen in six months, is ut*
terly overlooked, and forgotten. And if
a foreign influence should ever be fairly
established in Ireland, how many hours
would the Irish Church, how many
months would the English Church,
live after such an event I How much
is any English title worth after such
an event — any English family >- any
English estate ? We are astonished
that the. brains of rich Englishmen do
not fall down into their bellies in
talking of the Catholic question — that
they do not reason through the cardia
and the pylorus-^ that all the organs
of digestion do not become intellectuaL
The descendants of the proudest noble*
men in England may become beggars
in a foreign land from this disgraceful
nonsense of the Catholic question — fit
only for the ancient females of a nuur-
ket town.

What alarms us in the state of
England is the uncertain basis on
which its prosperity is placed — and the
prodigious mass of hatred which the
English government continues, by its
obstinate bigotry, to accumulate — eight
hundred and forty millions sterling of
debt. The revenue depending upon
the demand for the shoes, stockings,
and breeches of Europe — and seven
roillioBs of Catholics in a state of the
greatest fury and exasperation. We
persecute as if we did not owe a shil-
ling — we spend as if we had no dis-
affection. This, by possibility, may go
on ; but it is dangerous walking — the

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

123

ehance is, ther6 will be a fall No wise
man should take such a course. All
probabilities are against it. We are
astonished that Lord Hertford and
Lord Lowther, shrewd and calculating
Tories, do not see that it is nine to one
against such a game.

It is not only the event of war
we fear in the militarj struggle with
Ireland ; but the expense of war, and
the expenses of the Knglish govern-
ment, are paving the way for future
revolntions. The world never jet saw
so extravagant a government as the
Government of England. Not only is
economy not practised — but it is des-
pised; and the idea of it connected with
disaffection. Jacobinism, and Joseph
Hume. Every rock in the ocean where
a cormorant can perch is occupied by
our troops — has a governor, deputy-
governor, storekeeper, and deputy-
storekeeper — and will soon have an
archdeacon and a bishop. Military
colleges, with thirty-four professors,
educating seventeen ensigns per an-
num, being half an ensign for each
professor, with every species of non-
sense, athletic, sartorial, and plumige-
rons. A just and necessary war costs
this country about one hundred pounds
a minute ; whipcord fifteen thousand
pounds ; red tape seven thousand
pounds ; lace for drummers and fifers,
nineteen thousand pounds ; a pension
to one man who has broken his head
at the Pole ; to another who has shat-
tered his leg at the Equator ; subsidies
to Persia; secret service-money to
Thibet ; an annuity to Lady Henry
Somebody and her seven daughters —
the husband being shot at some place
w^here we never ought to have had any
soldiers at all ; and the elder brother
returning four members to Parliament.
Such a scene of extravagance, corrup-
tion, and expense as must paralyse the
industry, and mar the fortunes, of the
most industrious, spirited people that
ever existed.

Few men consider the historical view
which will be taken of present events.
The bubbles of last year ; the fishing
for half-crowns in Vigo Bay ; the Milk
Muffin and Crumpet Companies ; the
Apple, Pear, and Plum Associations ;

the National Gooseberry and Currant
Company ; will all be remembered as
instances of that partial madness to
which society is occasionally exposed.
What will be said of all the intolerable
trash which is issued forth at public
meetings of No Popery ? The follies
of one century are scarcely credible
in that which succeeds it. A grand-
mamma of 1827 is as wise as a very
wise man of 1727. If the world lasts
till 1927, the grandmammas of that
period will be far wiser than the tip-
top No Popery men of this day. That
this childish nonsense will have got
out of the drawing-room, there can be
no doubt. It will most probably have
passed through the steward's room,
and butler's pantry, into the kitchen.
This is the case with ghosts. They no
longer loll on couches and sip tea ;
but are down on their knees scrubbing
with the scullion — or stand sweating,
and basting with the cook. Mrs.
Abigail turns up her nose at them,
and the housekeeper declares for flesh
and blood, and will have notie of their
company.

It is delicious to the persecution-
fanciers to reflect that no general bill
has passed in favour of the Protestant
Dissenters. They are still disqualified
from holding any office — and are only
protected from prosecution by an an-
nual indemnity act. So that the sword
of Damocles still hangs over them —
not suspended indeed by a thread, but
by a cart-rope — still it hangs there an
insult, if not an injury, and prevents the
painful idea from presenting itself to
the mind of perfect toleration, and pure
justice. There is the larva of tyranny,
and the skeleton of malice. Now
this is all we presume to ask for the
Catholics — admission to Parliament,
exclusion from every possible office by
law, an annual indemnity for the breach
of law. . This is surely much more
agreeable to feebleness, to littleness,
and to narrowness, than to say, the
Catholics are as free, and as eligible,
as ourselves.

The most intolerable circumstance
of the Catholic dispute is, the conduct
of the Dissenters. Any man may dis-
sent from the Church of England, and

124

CATHOLIC

preach against it. hj paying sixpence.
Almost every tradesman in a market
town is a preacher. It most absolutely
be ride-and-tie with them ; the butcher
must hear the baker in the morning,
and the baker listen to the batcher in
the afternoon, or there would be no
congregation. We hare often specu-
lated upon the peculiar trade of the
preacher from his style of action,
bome have a tying-up or parcel-pack-
ing action; some strike strongly against
the anvil of the pulpit ; some screw,
some bore, some act as if they were
managing a needle. The occupation
of the preceding week can seldom be
mistaken. In the country, three or
lour thousand Ranters are sometimes
encamped, supplicating in religions
platoons, or roaring psalms out of
waggons. Now all this freedom is
very proper ; because, though it is
abused, yet in truth there is no other
principle in religious matters, than to
let men alone as long as they keep the
peace. Yet we should imagine this un-
bounded licence of Dissenters should
teach them a little charity towards the
Catholics, and a little respect for their
religions freedom. But the picture of
sects is this — there are twenty fettered
men in a gaol, and every one is em-
ployed in loosening his own fetters
with one hand, and riveting those of
his neighbour with the other.

«<'

'If then/ saiys a minister of our own
Church, the Beverend John Fisher, rector of
Wavenden, in this county, in a sermon pub-
lished some years ago, and entitled *The
IJtilitiy of the Church Establishment, and
its Safety consistent with Beligious Free-
dom'— * If, then, the Protestant religion
could have originally worked its way in this
country against numbers, prejudices, bigo-
try, and interest ; if, in times of its InfiBint^,
the power of the prince could not prevail
against it ; surely, when confirmed by age,
and rooted in the affections of the people—
when invested with authority, and in tall
enjoyment of wealth and power — when che-
rished by a Sovereign who holds his very
throne by this sacred tenure, and whose
conscientious attachment to it well war-
rants the title of Defender of the Faith—
surely any attack U()on it must be con-
temptible, any alarm of danger must be
laiagmaTy.' "— {Lord yugeiWt Letter, p.l8.)

QUESTION.

To go into a committee upon the
state of the Catholic Law is to recon-
sider, as Lord Nugent justly observes,
passages in our domestic history, which
bear date abont 270 years ago. Now,
what hnman plan, device, or invention,
270 years old, does not require recon-
sideration ? If a man dressed as he
dressed 270 years ago, the pug-dogs
in the streets would tear him to pieces.
If he lived in the houses of 270 years
ago, unrevised and uncorrected, he
would die of rheumatism in a week.
If he listened to the sermons of 270
years ago, he would perish with sad-
ness and fatigue $ and when a man
cannot make a coat or a cheese, for
50 years together, without making
them better, can it be said that laws
made in those days of ignorance, and
framed in the fnry of religions hatred,
need no revision, and are capable of
no amendment ?

We have not the smallest partiality
for the Catholic religion ; quite the
contrary. That it should exist at all
— that all Catholics are ndt converted
to the Protestant reli;;ion — we considei*
to be a serious evil ; bat there they are,
with their spirit as strong, and their
opinions as decided, as your own. The
Protestant part of the Cabinet have
quite given up all idea of putting them
to death ; what remains to be done ?
We all admit the evil \ the object is to
make it as little as possible. One
method commonly resorted to, we are
Bure, does not lessen, but increase the
evil ; and that is, to falsify history,
and deny plain and obvious facts, to
the injury of the Catholics. No true
friend to the Protestant religion and
to the Church of England will ever
have recourse to such disingenuouQ
arts as these.

'* Our histories have n6t, I believe, stated
what is untrue of Queen Mary, nor, per-
haps, have they very much exaggerated
what is true of her ; but our arguers, whose
only talk is of Smithfleld, are generally
very imcandid in what they conceal. It
would appear to be little known, that the
statutes which enabled Mary to burn those
who had conformed to the Church of her
father and brother, were Protestant sta-
tuteH, declaring the common law against
heresy, and framed by her fatiam Heoiy

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

the Eighth, and oonfirmed and acted npon
"by Order of Ck>uncil of her brother Edward
the Sixth, enabling that mild and temperate
young sovereign to bum divers misbelievers,
by sentence of commissioners (little better,
says Neale, than a Protestant Inquisition)
appointed to 'examine and search after aU
Anabaptists, Heretics, or contemners of the
Book of Common Prayer/ It would appear
to be seldom considered, that her seal might
very possibly have been warmed by the dr-
cuiTDStanoe of both her chaplains having
been imprisoned for their religion, and her-
self arbitrarily detained, and her safety
threatened, during the short but persecut-
ing reign of her brother. The sad evidences
of the violence of those days are by no
means confined to her acts. The fSngots of
persecution were not Idndled by Papists
only, nor did they cease to blaze when the
power of using them as instruments of
conversion ceased to be in Popish hands.
Cranmer himself, in his dreadfid death,
met with but equal measure for the flames
to which he had doomed several who denied
the apiritual supremacy of Henry the
Eighth : to which he had doomed also a
Dutch Arian, in Edward the Sixth's reign ;
and to which, with great pains and diffi-
culty, he had i)ersuaded that prince to doom
another miserable enthusiast, Joan Bocher,
for some metaphysical notions of her own
on the divine inoamation. ' So that on both
aides * (says Ijord Herbert of Cherbury) ' it
grew a bloody time.* Calvin burned 8er^
vetoB at Geneva for 'discoursing concern-
ing the Trinity, contrary to the sense of the
whole chureh; and thereupon set forth a
book wherein he giveth an account of his
doctrine, and of whatever else had passed
in this aflUr, and teaoheth that the sword
may be lawfully employed against heretics.'
Tet Calvin was no Papist. John Knox ex-
tolled in his writii^^ as 'the godly fiict .of
James MelvH,' the savage murder by which
Ctodinal Beaton was made to expiate his
many and cruel persecutions ; a murder to
which, by the great popular eloquence of
Knox, his fellow-labourers In the vineyard
of reformation, Lesly and Melvil, had been
excited ; and yet John Knox, and Lesly, and
MeMl, were no Papists. Henry the Eighth,
whose one virtue was impartiality in these
matters (if an impartial and evenly-ba-
lan<^ persecution of aU sects be a virtue),
beheaded a chancellor and a bishop^ b^
cause, having admitted his civil supremacy,
they doubted his spirituaL Of the latter
of them Loid Herbert says, ' The pope, who
aospected not, perchance, that the bishop's
end was so near, had, for more testimony of
his fftvour to him as disaffection to our king,
■eat himftoydinaVs hat ; but unseasonably,

125

his head being oft* He beheaded the Coun-
tess of Salisbury, because at upwards of
eighty years old she wrote a letter to Car-
dinal Pole, her own son ; and he burned
Barton, the ' Holy Maid of Kent,' for a pro-
phecy of his death. He burned four Ana
baptists in one day for opposing the doctrine
of infemt baptism ; and he burned Lambert
and Anne Asoue, and Belerican, and Las-
sells, and Adams, on another day, for oppos-
ing that of transubstantiation ; with many
others of lesser note, who reftised to sub-
scribe to his Six Bloody Articles, as they
were called, or whose opinions fell short of
his, or exceeded them, or who abided by
opinions after he had abandoned them ; and
all this after the Reformation. And yet
Henry the Eighth was the sovereign who
first delivered us from the yoke of Rome.

" In later times, thousands of Protestant
Dissenters of the four great sects were
made to languish in loathsome prisons, and
hundreds to perish miserably, during the
reign of Charles the Second, under a Pro-
testant High Church Gk>vemment, who
then first applied, in tiie prayer for the
Parliament, the epithets of ' most religious
and gracious' to a sovereign whom they
knew to be profligate and unprincipled be-
yond example, and had reason to suspect to
be a concealed Papist.

** Later stiD, Arehbishop Sharp was sacri-
flced by the murderous enthusiasm of oer^
tain Scotch Covenanters, who yet appear to
have sinoorely believed themselves inspired
by Heaven to this act of cold-blooded bar-
barous assassination.

"On subjects like these, silence on all
sides, and a mutual interohange of repent-
ance, forgiveness, and oblivion, is wisdom.
But to quote grievances on one side only, i«
not honestly,**— {Lord Nugwts Letter, pp.
a^270

Sir Bichard Bimie can only attend
to the complaints of individuals ; but
no cases of swindling are brought
before him so atrocious as the violation
of the Treaty of Limerick, and the
disappointment of those hopes, and
the frustration of that arrangement ;
which hopes and which arrangements
were held out as one of the great argu-
ments for the Union. The chapter of
Knglish Fraud comes next to the chap-
ter of English Cruelty, in the history
of Ireland — and both are equally
disgraceful.

Nothing can be more striking than
the conduct of the parent Legislature
to the Legislature of the West Indian

126

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

Islands. '*We cannot leave yon to
yourselves upon these points" (says
the English Government) ; " the wealth
of the planter, and the commercial
prosperity of the islands, are not the
only points to be looked to. We must
look to the general rights of humanity,
and see that they are not outraged in
the case of the poor slave. It is im-
possible we can be satisfied till we
know that he is placed in a state of pro-
gress and amelioration." How beau-
tiful is all this ! and how wise, and
how humane and affecting are our
efforts throughout Europe to put an
end to the Slave Trade I Wherever
three or four negotiators are gathered
together, a British diplomate appears
among them, with some article of
kindness and pity for the poor negro.
All is mercy and compassion, except
when wretched Ireland is concerned.
The saint who swoons at the lashes of
the Indian slave is the encourager of
No Popery Meetings, and the hard,
bigoted, domineering tyrant of Ire-
laud.

See the folly of delaying to settle a
question which, in the end, must be
settled, and, ere long, to the advantage
of the Catholics. How the price rises
by delay ! This argument is extremely
well put by Lord Nngent

"I should observe that two ooeasions
have ahready been lost of granting these
claims, coupled with what were called se-
curities, such as never can return. Inl808|
the late Duke of Norfolk and Lord Gren-
ville, in the one House, and Mr. Ponsonby
and Mr. Grattan in the other, were autho-
rised by the Irish CathoUo body to propose
a negative to be vested in the Crown upon
the appointment of their bishops. Mr. Pear^
oeval, the Chanoellor, and the Spiritual
Bench, did not see the impoiianoe of this
opportuniliy. It was r^eeted; the Irish
were driven to despair; and in the same
tomb with the question of 1808 lies for ever
buried the Veto. The same was the fiite
with what were called the ' wings ' attached
to Sir Francis Burdetf s bill of last year.
I voted for them, not for the nke certainly
of extending the patronage of the Crown
over a new body of clergy, nor yet for the
sake of diminishing the popular diaracter
of elections in Ireland, but because Mr.
CConnell, and because some of the Protes-
tant Irienda of the measure who knew Ire-

land the best, reoommended them ; and be-
cause I believed, fh>m the language of some
who supported it only on these conditions,
that they offered the fehirest chance for the
measure being carried. I voted for them as
the price of Catholic emancipation, for
which I can scarcely contemplate any Irish
price that I would not pi^. With the same
object, I would vote for them again ; but I
shall never again have the opportunity.
For these also, if they were thought of any
value as securities, the events of this year
in Ireland have shown you that you have
lost for ever. And the necessity of the great
measure becomes every day more urgent
and unavoidable"— (Xord Nugent » Letter,
pp. 71. 72.)

Can any man living say that Ireland
is not in a much more dangerous state
than it was before the Catholic Con-
vention began to exist ? — ^that the in-
flammatory state of that country is
not becoming worse and worse ? —
that those men whom we call dema-
gogues and incendiaries have not
produced a very considerable and
alarming effect upon the Irish popula-
tion ? Where is this to end ? But
the fool liiteth up his voice in the
coffee-house, and sayeth, **We shall
give them a hearty thrashing : let them
rise — the sooner the better — we will
soon put them down again." The fool
sayeth this in the coffee-house, and the
greater fool praiseth him. But does
Lord Stowel say this ? does Mr. Peel
say this f does the Marquis of Hert-
ford say this ? do sensible, calm, and
reflecting men like these, not admit
the extreme danger of combatting
against invasion and disaffection, and
this with our forces spread in actire
hostility over the whole face of the
globe? Can they feel this vulgar,
hectoring certainty of success, and
stupidly imagine that a thing cannot
be because it has never yet been ? — .
because we have hitherto maintained
our tyranny in Ireland against all
Europe, that we are always to main-
tain it ? And then, what if the strug-
gle does at last end in our favour ? is
die loss of English lives and of En-
glish money not to be taken into
account ? Is this the way in which a
nation overwhelmed with debt, and
trembling whether its 'looms and

CATHOLIC QUESTIOK.

ploughs will not be over-inatched bj
the looms and plonghs of the rest of
Europe — is this the waj in which such
a coantry is to husband its resources ?
Is the best blood of the land to be
flang awaj in a war of hassocks and
surplices ? Are cities to be summoned
for the Thirty-nine Articles, and men to
be led on to the charge by professors of
divinity? The expense of keeping such
a country must be added to all other
enonnoos expenses. What is really
possessed of a country so subdued?
four or five yards round a sentry-box,
and no more. And in twenty years'
time it is all to do over again — another
war — another rebellion, and another
enormous and ruinously expensive
contest, with the same dreadful uncer-
tainty of the issue! It is forgotten,
too, that a new feature has arisen in
the history of this country. In all
former insurrections in Ireland no
democratic party existed in England.
The efforts of Government were left
free and unimpeded. But suppose a
stoppage in your manufactures coinci-
dent with a rising of the Irish Catholics,
when every soldier is employed in the
lacred duty of Papist-hunting. Can
any man contemplate such a state of
things without horror ? Can any man
say that he is taken by surprise for such
a combination ? Can any man say
that any danger' to Church or State
is comparable to this ? But for the
prompt interference of the military in
the early part of 1826, three or four
hundred thousand starring manufac-
turers would have carried ruin and
destruction over the north of England,
and over Scotland. These dangers are
inseparable from an advanced state of
manufactures — but they need not the
addition of other and greater perils
which need not exist in any country
too wise and too enlightened for per-
secution.

Where is the weak point in these
plain arguments ? Is it the remoteness
of *the chance of foreign war ? Alas !
tre have been at war 85 minutes out
of every hoar since the Peace Of
Utrecht The state of war seems more
natural to man than the state of peace ;
and if we turn from general proba-

127

bilities to the state of Europe — Greece
to be liberated — Turkey to be destroyed
— Portugal and Spain to be made free
— ^the wounded vanity of the French,
the increasing arroganoe of the Ame-
neaps, and our own philopolemical
folly, are endless scenes of war. We
believe it is at all times a better specu-
lation to make ploughshares into
swords than swords into ploughshares.
If war is certain, we believe insurrec-
tion to be quite as certain. We cannot
believe but that the French or the
Americans would, in case of war. make
a serious attempt upon Ireland, and
that all Ireland would rush, tail fore-
most, into insurrection.

A new source of disquietude and war
has lately risen in Ireland. Our saints,
or evangelical people, or serious people,
or by whatever other name they are to
be designated, have taken the field in
Ireland against the Pope, and are con-
verting in the large way. Three or
four Irish Catholic prelates take a
post-chaise and curse the converters
and the converted. A battle royal
ensnes with shillelas : the policeman
comes in, and, reckless of Lambeth or
the Vatican, makes no distinction
between what is perpendicular and
what is hostile, but knocks down every-
body and everything which is upright ;
and so the fend ends for the day. We
have no doubt but that these efforts
will tend to bring things to a crisis
much sooner between the parties than
the disgraceful conduct of the Cabinet
alone would do.

"It is a charge not imputed by the laws
of England nor by the oaths which exclude
the Catholics : for those oaths impute only
spiritual errors. But it is imputed, which
is more to the purpose, by those persons
who approve of the excluding oaths, and
wish them retained. But, to the whole of
this imputation, even if no other instance
oould be adduced, as ftnr as a strong and re>
markable example can prove the negative
of an assumption which there is not a sin-
gle example to support—the full, and suffi-
cient, and inoontestable answer is Canada.
Canada^ which, until you can destroy the
memory of i^ that now remains to you of
your sovereignty on the North American
Coatinent, is an answer practical, memor-
able, difficult to be accounted tor, but Mao-

128

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

ing as the sun itself in sight of the whole
world, to the whole charge of divided alle-
giance. At your conquest of Canada, you
found it Boman Catholic; you had to
choose for her a constitution in Church
and State. You were wise enough not to
thwart public opinion. Tour own conduct
towards Presbyterianism in Scotland was
an example for imitation; your own con-
duct towards Catholicism in Ireland was tk
beacon for avoidance ; and in Canada you
established and endowed the religion of the
people. Canada was your only Boman Ca-
tholic colony. Tour other colonies rerolt-
ed ; they called on a Catholic power to sup-
port them, and th^ achieyed their inde-
pendence. Catholic Canada, with what;
Lord Liverpool would call her half-allegi-
ance, alone stood by you. She fought by
your side against the interference of Catho-
lic France. To reward and encourage her
loyalty, you endowed in Canada bishops to
say mass, and to ordain others to aa^ mass,
whom, at that rery time, your laws would
have hanged for saying mass in England;
and Canada is still yours, in spite of Catho-
lic France, in spite of her spiritual obedi-
ence to the Pope, in spite of Lord Liver-
pool's ai^^ment, and in spite of the inde-
pendence ^of all the states that surround
her. This is the only trial you have made.
Where you allow to the Boman Catholics
their rel^on undisturbed^ it has proved
itself to be compatible with the most fSftith-
f ul allegiance. It is only where you have
placed allegiance and religion before them
as a dilemma, that they hav£ preferred (as
who will say they ought not ?) their religion
to their allegiance. How then stands the
imputation? IMsproved by history, dis-
inroved in all states where both religions
co-exist, and in both hemispheres, and as*
sorted in an exposition by Lord Liverpool,
solemnly and repeatedly abjuf ed by all Ca-
tholics, of the discipline of tJieir church.*'—
{Lord Nugwfs Letter, pp. 86, 36.)

Can any man who has gained per-
missioii to take off his strait-waistcoat,
and been out of Bedlam three weeks,
believe that the Catholic question will
be set to rest by the conversion of the
Irish Catholics to the Protestant reli-
gion ? The best chance of conversion
will be gained by taking care that the
point of honour is not against con-
version,

" We may, I think, collect from what we
know of the ordinary feelings of men, that
by admitting all to a community of political
benefits, we should remove a material im-

pediment that now presents itrelf to the
advances of proselytism to our established
mode of worship; particularly assuming,
as we do, that it is the purest, and that the
disfranchised mode is supported only by
superstition and priestcraft. By external
pressure and restraint, things are compact-
ed as well in the moral as in the physical
world. Where a sect is at spiritual variance
with the Established Church, it only re-
quires an abridgment of civil privileges to
render it at once a political faction. Its
members become instantly pledged, some
from enthusiasm, some from resentment,
and many fttmi honourable shame, to cleave
with desperate fondness to the suffering
fortunes of an hereditary religion. Is this
hunum nature, or is it not P Is it a natural
or an unnatural feeling for the representa-
tive of an ancient Boman Catholic fkmily,
even if in his heart he rejected the contro-
verted tenets of his early faith, to scorn an
open conformity to ours, so long as such
conformity brings with it the irremovable
suspicion that faith and conscience may
have bowed to the base hope of temporal
advantage ? Every man must feel and act
for himself : but, in my opinion, a good man
might be put to difficulty to determuie
whether more harm is not done by the ex-
ample of one changing his religion to his
worldly advantage, than good, by his openly
professing conformity frY>m what we think
error to what we think truth.** — {Lord
Nugenff» Letter, pp. 6^ 65.)

" We will not be bullied out of the
Catholic question.** This is a very
common text, and requires some com-
ment. If you mean that the sense of
personal dagner shall never prevent
you from doing what you think right
— this is a worthy and proper feeling,
but no such motive is suspected, and
no such question is at issue. Nobody
doubts but that any English gentleman
would be ready to join his No Popery
corps, and to do his duty to the com-
munity, if the Government required
it I but the question is. Is it worth
while in the Government to require it ?
Is it for the general advantage that
such a war should be carried on for
such an object ? It is a question not
of personal valour, but of political
expediency. Decide seriously if it be
worth the price of civil war to exclude,
the Catholics, and act accordingly ;
taking it for granted that you possess,
and that everybody supposes you to

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

129

possess, the Tulgar attribute of personal
courage ; but do not draw your sword
like a fool, from the unfounded appre-
hension of being called a coward.

We hav^ great hopes of the Duke
of Clarence. Whatever else he may
be, he is not a bigot — not a person
who thinks it necessary to show respect
to his royal father, by prolonging the
miseries and incapacities of six mil-
lions of people. If he ascend the
throne of these realms, he must stand
the fire of a few weeks* tlamour and un-
popularity. If the measure be passed
by the end of May, we can promise
his Royal Highness it will utterly be
forgotten before the end of June. Of
all human nonsense, it is surely the
greatest to talk of respect to the late
king — respect to the memory of the
Dake of York — by not voting for the
Catholic question. Bad enough to
born widows when the husband dies —
bad enough to bum horses, dogs, but-
lers, footmen, and coachmen, on the
funeral pile of a Scythian warrior —
but to offer up the happiness of seven
millions of people to the memory of
the dead, is certainly the most insane
sepulchral oblation of which history
makes mention. The best compliment,
to these deceased princes, is to remem-
ber their real good qualities, and to
forget (as soon as we can forget it)
that these good qualities were tarnished
by limited and mistaken views of re-
ligious liberty. •

Persecuting gentlemen forget the
expense of persecution ; whereas, of
all luxuries, it is the most expensive.
The Banters do not cost us a farthing,
because they are not disqualified by
ranting. The Methodists and Unita-
rians are gratis. The Irish Catholics,
supposing every alternate yeai* to be
war, as it has been for the last century,
will cost us, within these next twenty
years, forty millions of money. There
are 20,000 soldiers there in time of
peace ; in war, including the militia,
their numbers will be doubled — and
there must be a very formidable fleet
in addition. Now, when the tax paper
comes round, and we are to make a
return of the greatest number of hor-
ecSf buggies, ponies, dogs, cats, buU-

VoL.IL

finches, and canary birds, &c., and to
be taxed accordingly, let us remember
how well and wisely our money has
been spent, and not repine that we
have piurchased, by severe taxation,
the high and exalted pleasures of in-
tolerance and persecution.

It is mere unsupported, and unsup-
portable nonsense, to talk of the ex-
clusive disposition of the Catholics to
persecute. The Protestants have mur-
dered, and tortured, and laid waste as
much as the Catholics. Each party,
as it gained the upper hand, tried
death as the remedy for heresy — both
parties have tried it in vain.

A distinction is set up between civil
rights and political power, and applied
against the Catholics : the real differ-
ence between these two words is, that
civil comes from a Latin word, and
political from a Greek one ; but if
there be any difference in their mean-
ing, the Catholics do not ask for poli-
tical power, but for eh'gibilitj/ to poli-
tical power. The Catholics have never
prayed, or dreamt of prajring, that so
many of the Judges and King's Coun-
sel should necessarily be Catholics ;
but that no law should exist which
prevented them from becoming so, if
a Protestant King chose to make them
so. Eligibility to political power is a
civil privilege, of which we have no
more right to deprive any man than
of any other civil privilege. The
good of the State may require that
all civil rights may be taken from
Catholics ; but to say that eligibility
to political power is not a civil right,
and that to take it away without grave
cause, would not be a gross act of
injustice, is mere declamation. Be-
sides, what is called political power,
and what are called civil rights, are
given or withholden, without the least
reference to any principle, but by mere
caprice. A right of voting is given —
thid is political power ; eligibility to
the office of Alderman or Bank Di-
rector is refused — this is a civil right :
the distinction is perpetually violated,
just as it has suited the state of parties
for the moment. And here a word or
two on the manner of handling the
question. Because some offices might

130

be filled with Catholics, all woald be:
this is one topic. A second is, be-
cause there might be inconvenience
from a Catholtc King or Chancellor,
that, therefore, there would be incon-
venience from Catholic Judges or
Sergeants. In talking of establish-
ments, they always take care to blend
the Iiish and English establishments^
and never to say which is meant,
though the circumstances of both
are as different as possible. It is
always presumed, that sects holding
opinions contrary to the Establish-
ment, are hostile to the Establishment;
meaning by the word hostile, that they
are combined, or ready 'to combine,
for its destruction* It is contended,
that the Catholics would not be satis-
fied by these concessions; meaning,
thereby, that many would not be so —
but forgetting to add, that n^ny would
be quite satisfied — all more satisfied,
and less likely to run into rebellion.
It is urged that the mass of Catho-
lics are indifferent to the question ;
whereas (never mind the cause) there
is not a Catholic plough-boy, at this
moment, who is not ready to risk his
life for it, nor a Protestant stable-boy,
who does not give himself airs of supe-
riority over any papistical cleaner of
horses, who is scrubbing with him
under the same roof.

The Irish were quiet under the
severe code of Queen Anne — so
the half-murdered man left on the
ground bleeding by thieves is quiet;
and he only moans, and cries for' help
as he recovers. There was a method
which would have made the Irish still
more quiet, and effectually have put
an end to all further solicitation
respecting the Catholic question. It
was adopted in the case of the wolves.

They are forming societies in Ire-
land for the encouragement of emi-
gration, and striving, and successfully
striving, to push their redundant po-
pulation into Great Britain. Our
business is to pacify Ireland — to
give confidence to capitalists — and
to keep their people where they are.
On the day the Catholic question was
passed, all property in Ireland would
rise 20 per cent.

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

Protestants admit that there are
sectaries sitting in Parliament, who
differ from the Church of England
as much as the Catholics; but it is for-
gotten that, according to the doctrine of
the Church of England, th^ Unitarians
are considered as condemned to eternal
punishment in another world — and
that many such have seats in Parlia-
ment. And can anything be more
preposterous (as far as doctrine has
any influence in these matters) than
that men, whom we believe to be
singled out as bbjects of God's eternal
vengeance, should have a seat in our
national councils ; and that Catholics,
whom we believe may be saved, should
not?

The only argument which has any
appearance of weighty is the question
of divided allegiance; and, generally
speaking, we should say it is the argu-
ment which produces the greatest effect
in the country at large. England, in
this respect, is in the same state, at
least, as the whole of Catholic Europe.
Is not the allegiance of every French, 4
every Spanish, and every Italian Ca^
tholic (who is not a Roman) divided ?
His king is in Paris, or Madrid, or
Naples, while his high-priest is at
Borne. We speak of it as an anomaly
in politics; whereas, it is the state, and
condition of almost the whole of Europe.
The danger of this divided allegiance,
they admit, is nothing as long as it is
confined to purely spiritual concerns;
but it may extend itself to temporal
matters, and so endanger the safety of
the State. This danger, however, is
greater in a Catholic than in a Protes-
tant country; not only on account of
the greater majority upon whom it
might act ; but because there are ob-
jects in a Catholic country much more
desirable, and attainable, than in a
country like England, where Popery
docs not exist, or Ireland, where it is
humbled, and impoverished. Take,
for instance, the freedom of the Gal-
ilean Church. What eternal disputes
did this object give birth to! What a
temptation to the Pope to infringe in
rich Catholic countries! How is it
possible his Holiness can keep his
hands from picking and stealing ? It

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

mast not be imagined that Catholicism
has been any defence against the hos-
tility and aggression of the Pope: he
has cursed and excommunicated every
Catholic State in Europe, in their turns.
Let that eminent IVotestant, Lord
Bathnrst, state any one instance where,
for the last century, the Pope has in-
terfered with the temporal concerns of
Great Britain^ We can mention, and
his Lordship will remember, innumer-
able instances where he might have
done so, if such were the modern habit
and policy of the Court of Bome.
Bat the fact is, there is no Court of
Eome, and no Pope. There is a wax-
work Pope, and a wax-work Court of
Rome. But Popes of flesh and blood
have long since disappeared ; and in
the same way, those great giants of
the city exist no more, but their trucu-
lent images are at Guildhall We
doubt if there is in the treasury of the
Pope, change for a guinea — we are
sure there is not in his armoury one
gun which will go off. We believe, if
he attempted to bless anybody whom
Br. Doyle cursed, or to curse anybody
vhom Dr. Doyle blessed, that his
blessings and curses would be as
powerless as his artillery. Dr. Doyle*
is the Pope of Ireland; and the ablest
ecclesiastic of that country will always
he its Pope — and that Lord Bathurst
ought to know — ^most likely does know.
But what a waste of life and time, to
combat such arguments! Can my
Lord Bathurst be ignorant? — can any
man, who has the slightest knowledge
of Ireland, be ignorant, that the port-
manteau which sets out every quarter
for Borne, and returns from it, is a heap
of ecclesiastical matters, which have no
more to do with the safety of the
country, than they have to do with the
safety of the moon — and which, but
for the respect to individual feelings,

* " Of this I can with great truth assure
you; and my testimony, if not entitled to
jespect, should not be utterly disregardecC
that Papal influence will never induce the
Catholics of this country either to continue
tranquil, or to be disturbed, either to aid
or to oppose the Government ; and that
your Lordship can contribute much more
than the Pope to secure their allegiance, or
to render them disaffected.**— (i>r. JDoyWs
■Uiter to Lord Liverpool, p. 115.)

131

might all be published at Charing
Cross ? Mrs. Flanagan, intimidated
by stomach complaints, wants a dis-
pensation for eating flesh. Cornelius
Oh Bowel has intermarried by accident
with his grandmother; and, finding
that she is really his grandmother, his
conscience is uneasy. Mr. Mac Todey^
the priest, is discovered to be married,
and to have two sons. Castor and
Pollux Mac Todey, Three or four
schooIs-fuU of little boys have been
cursed for going to hear a Methodist
preacher. Bargains for shirts and toe-
nails of deceased saints — surplices and
trencher-caps blessed by the Pope.
These are the fruits of double allegi-
ance-^ the objects of our incredible
fear, and the cause of our incredible
folly. There is not a syllable which
goes to or comes from the Court of
Bome, which, by a judiciousexpenditure
of sixpence by the year, would not be
open to the examination of every
Member of the Cabinet. Those who
use such arguments know the answer
to them as well as we do« The real
evil they dread is the destruction of
the Church of Ireland, and through
that, of the Church of England. To
which we reply, that such danger must
proceed from the regular proceedings
of Parliament, or be effected by insur-
rection and febellion. The Catholicsi,
restored to eivil functions, would, wc
believe, be more likely to cling to the
Church than to Dissenters. If not,
both Catholics and Dissenters must be
utterly powerless against the over-
whelming English interest and feel-
ings in the House. Men are less
inclined to run into rebellion, in pro-
portion as they have less to complain
of$ and, of all other dangers, the
greatest to the Irish and English
Church establishments, and to the
Protestant faith throughout Europe,
is to leave Ireland in its present state
of discontent,

If the intention is to wait to the last,
before concession is made, till the
French or Americans have landed,
and the Holy standard has been un-
furled, we ought to be sure of the
terms which can be obtained at su.'h
a crisis. This game was played in

K 2

132

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

America. Commissioners were sent
in one year to offer and to press what
would have been most thankfully re-
ceived the year before; bat they were
always too late. The rapid conces-
sions of England were outstripped by
the more rapid exactions of the colo-
nies; and the commissioners returned
with the melancholy history, that they
had humbled themselves before the
rebels in vain. If you ever mean to
concede at all, do it when every con-
cession will be received as a favour.
To wait till you are forced to treaty is
as mean in principle as it is dangerous
in effect.

Then, how many thousand Prolcstant
Dissenters are there who pay a double
allegiance to the King, and to the head
of their Church, who is not the King ?
Is not Mr. William Smith, member for
Norwich, the head of the Unitarian
Church ? Is not Mr. Wilberforce the
head of the Clapham Church ? Are
there not twenty preachers at Leeds,
who re(2:ulate all the proceedings of
the Methodists? The gentlemen we
have mentioned are eminent, and most
excellent men ; but if anything at all
is to be apprehended from this divided
allegiance, we should be infinitely more
afraid of some Jacobinical fanatic at
the head of Protestant votaries — some
man of such character as Lord George
Gordon — than we should of all the
efforts of the Pope.

As so much evil is supposed to pro-
ceed from not obeying the King as
head of the Church, it might be sup-
posed to be a very active office — that
the King was perpetually interfering
with the affairs of the Church — and
that orders were in a course of emana-
tion from the Throne, which regulated
the fervour, and arranged the devotion of
all the members of the Church of Eng-
land. But we really do not know what
orders are ever given by the King to
the Church, except the appointment of
a fast-day once in three or four years;
— nor can we conceive (for appoint-
ment to Bishoprics is out of the ques-
tion) what duties there would be to
perform, if this allegiance were paid,
instead of being withholden. Supre-
macy appears to us to be a mere name,

without exercise of power — and alle-
giance to be a duty, without any per-
formance annexed. If any one will
say what ought to be done which is
not done, on account of this divided
allegiance, we shall better understand
the magnitude of the eviL Till then,
we shall consider it as a lucky Protes-
tant phrase, good to look at, like the
mottos and ornaments dn cake, but not
fit to be eaten.

Nothing can be more unfair than to
expect, in an ancient church like that
of the Catholics, the same uniformity
as in churches which have not existed
for more than two or three centuries.
The coats and waistcoats of the reign
of Henry VIII. bear some resemblance
to the same garments of the present
day; but, as yon recede, you get to the
skins of wild beasts, or the fleeces of
sheep, for the garments of savages.
In the same way it is extremely difficult
for a church, which has to do with the
counsels of barbarous ages, not to be
detected in some discrepancy of opinion ;
while in younger churches, everything
is fair and fresh, and of modem dato
and figure ; and it is not the custom
among theologians to own their church,
in the wrong. " No religion can stand,
if men, without regard to their God,
and with regard only to controversy,
shall rake out of the rubbish of antiquity
the obsolete and quaint follies of the
sectarians, and affront the majesty of
the Almighty with the impudent cata-
logue of their devices ; and it is a
strong argument against the prescrip-
tive system, that it helps to continue
this shocking contest Theologian
against theologian, polemic against
polemic, until the two madmen defame
their common parent, and expose their
common relijrion." — {GrattarCs Speech
on the Catholic Question, 1805.)

A good-natured and well-conditioned
person has pleasure in keeping and dis-
tributing anything that is good. If he
detects anything with superior flavour,
he presses and invites, and is not easy
till others participate ; — and so it is
with political and religious freedom.
It is a pleasure to possess it, and a
pleasure to communicate it to others.
There is something shocking in the

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

greedy, growling, guzzling monopoly
of such a blessing.

France is no longer a nation of
atheists; and therefore, a great caase
of offence to the Irish Boman Catholic
clergy is removed. Navigation by
steam renders all shores more acces-
sible. The union among Catholics is
consolidated ; all the dangers of Ire-
land are redoubled ; everything seems
tending to an event fatal to England —
fatal (whatever Catholics may foolishly
imagine) to Ireland — and which will
sabject them both to the dominion of
France.

Formerly a poor man might be re-
moved from a parish if there was the
slightest danger of his becoming charge-
able; a hole in his coat or breeches
excited suspicion. The churchwardens
said, " He has cost us nothing, but he
nay cost us something ; and we must
not live even in the apprehension of
evil.*' «A11 this is changed ; and the
law now says, "Wait till you are hurt ;
time enough to meet the evil when it
comes; you have no right to do a
certain evil to others, to prevent an
uncertain evil to yourselves." The
Catholics, however, are told that what
they do ask is objected to, from the fear
of what they may ask ; that they must
do without that which is reasonable^
for fear they should ask what is un-
reasonable. " I would give you a
penny (says the miser to the beggar),
if I was quite sure you would not ask
me for half a crown."

"Nothing, I am told, is now so common
on the Continent as to hear our Irish po-
licy discussed. Till of late the extent of
the disabilities was but little understood,
and less r^gaa*ded, partly because, having
less liberty themselves, foreigners could not
appreciate the deprivations, and partly be-
cause the pre-eminence qf England was not
so decided as to draw the eyes of the world
on all parts of our system. It was scarcely
credited that England, that knight-errant
abroad, should play the exclusionist at
home ; that everywhere else she should de-
clam against oppression, but contemplate
it without emotion at her doors. That her
armies should march, and her orators phi-
lippise, and her poets sing against conti-
nental tyranny, and yet that laws should
Kmain extant, and principles be operative

133

within our gates, which are a bitter satire
on our philanthropy, and a melancholy ne-
gation of our professions. Our sentiments
have been so lofty, our deportment to fo-
reigners so haugh^, we have set up such
liberty and such morals, that no one could
suppose that we were hypocrites. Still less
could it be foreseen that as a great mora,
list, called Joseph Surface, kept a 'Little
MiUiner' behind the screen, we too should
be found out at length in taking the diver-
sion of private tyranny after the most
approved models for that amusement."—
{Letter to Lord Milton, pp. 50, 51.)

We sincerely hope — we firmly be-
lieve — it never will happen ; but if it
were to happen, why cannot England
be just as happy with Ireland being
Catholic, as it is with Scotland being
Presbyterian ? Has not the Church
of England lived side by side with the
Kirk, without crossing or jostling, for
these last hiindred years ? Have the
Presbyterian members entered into any
conspiracy for mincing Bishoprics and
Deaneries into Synods and Presby-
teries? And is not the Church of
England tenfold more rich and more
strong than when the separation took
place ? But however this may be, the
real danger, even to the Church of
Ireland, as we have before often re-
marked, is the refusal of Catholic
Emancipation.

It would seem, from the frenzy of
many worthy Protestants, whenever
the name of Catholic is mentioned,
that the greatest possible diversity of
religious opinions existed between the
Catholic and the Protestant — that they
were as different as fish and flesh — as
alkali and acid — as cow and cart-
horse; whereas it is quite clear, that
there are many Protestant sects whose
difference from each other is much
more marked, both in church discipline
and in tenets of faith, than that of
Protestants and Catholics. We main-
tain that Lambeth, in thes& two points,
is quite as near to the Vatican as it is
to the Kirk — if not much nearer.

Instead of lamenting the power of
the priests over the lower orders of the
Irish, we ought to congratulate our-
selves that any influence can effect or
control them. Is the tiger less for-
midable in the forest than when he has

K 3

134

been caught and taught to obeja voice,
and tremble at a hand ? But we over-
rate the power of the priest, if we
suppose that the upper orders are to
encounter all the dangers of treason
and rebellion, to confer the revenues of
the Protestant Church upon their
Catholic clergy. If the influence of
the Catholic clergy upon men of rank
and education is so unbounded, why
cannot the French and Italian clergy
recover their possessions, or acquire an
equivalent for them ? They are starving
in the full enjoyment of an influence
which places (as we think) all the
wealth and power of the country at
their feet — an influence which, in our
opinion, overpowers avarice, fear, am-
bition, and is the master of every passion
which brings on change and movement
in the Protestant world.

We conclude with a few words of
advice to the different opponents of the
Catholic question.

To the No-Popery Fool

You are made use of by men who
laugh at you, and despise you for your
folly and ignorance; and who, the
moment it suits their purpose, will
consent to emancipation of the Catho-
lics, and leave you to roar and bellow
No Popery I to Vacancy and the Moon.

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

To the No-Popery Rogue.
A shameful and scandalous game,
to sport with the serious interests of
the country, in order to gain some in-
crease of public power !

To the Holiest No-Popery People.
We respect you very sincerely — but
are astonished at your existence.

To the Base.

Sweet children of turpitude, beware !
the old anti-popery people are fa^t
perishing away. Take heed that you
are not surprised by an emancipating
king, or an emancipating administra-
tion. Leave a locus pcenitentice I —
prepare a place for retreat — get ready
your equivocations and denials. The
dreadful day may yet come, -when
liberality may lead to place and power.
We understand these matters here. It
is safest to be moderately base — to be
flexible in shame, and to be ^vrays
ready for what is generous, good, and
just, when anything is to be gained by
virtue.

To the Catholics.

Wait Do not add to your miseries
by a mad and desperate rebellion.
Persevere in civil exertions, and con-
cede all you can concede. All great
alterations in human affairs are pro-
duced by compromise.

NOTE.

Mr. Stdket Smith selected from the
Edinburgh Be view those articles he
had written, — with the exception of
twelve.

These were probably omitted, be-
cause their subjects are already treated
of in the extracted Articles, or, because
they applied only to the period in which
they were written*

As Mr. Sydney Smith made the se-
lection, it is therefore respected and
continued; but lest any intention of
disowning these omissions should be

inferred, their numbers are subjoin-
ed.*

After the year 1827, the Lord Chan-
cellor Lyndhurst, disregarding political
differences between himself and his
friend, presented Mr. Sydney Smith to
the Canonry of Bristol Cathedral. As
a Dignitary of the Church he then
ceased to write anonymously.

• Vol. i. No. S.; VoL iL No. 4; VoL in.
Nos. 12. and 7.; Vol. xii. No. 6.; Vol. xvi.
No. 7. ; Vol. xvii. No. 4. ; Vol. xxilL No. «. •
Vol. xzxiv. Nos. 6. and 8.; Vol. xxxvii. No.
2. ; and Vol. xl. No. 2.

LETTERS

ON THB SUBJECT Or

THE CATH L I C S

TO

MY BROTHER ABRAHAM

WHO LIVES IN THE COUNTET.

BY PETER PLYMLEY.

LETTER I.

Dear Abraham,
A WORTHIER and better man than
yoarself does not exist ; but I have
always told you from the time of our
bojrfaood, that you were a bit of a
goose. Your parochial affairs are gov-
erned with exemplary order and regu-
larity; you are as powerful in the
Testry as Mr. Perceval is in the House
of Commons, — and, I must say, with
much more reason; nor do I know
any church where the faces and smock-
frocks of the congregation are so clean,
or their eyes so unifbrmly directed to
the preacher. There is another point,
upon which I will do yon ample jus-
tice ; and that is, that the eyes so di<
rected towards you are wide open ; for
tbe rustic has, in general, good prin-
ciples, though he cannot control his an-
imal habits ; and, however loud he may
snore, his face is perpetually turned
toward the fountain of orthodoxy.

Having done you this act of justice,
I shall proceed, according to our an-
cient intimacy and familiarity, to
explain to you my opinions about the
Catholics, and to reply to yours.

In the first place, my sweet Abra-
ham, the Pope is not landed — nor
are there any curates sent out after
him — nor has he been hid at St. Al-
ban's by the Dowager Lady Spencer
— nor dined privately at Holland
House — ^nor been seen near Dropmore.
If these fears exist (which I do not
believe), they exist only in the mind
of the Chancellor of the Exchequer ;
they emanate from his zeal for the
Protestant interest ; and, though they
reflect the highest honour upon the
delicate irritability of his faith, must
certainly be considered as more am-
biguous proofs of the sanity and vigour
of his understanding. By this time,
however, the best informed clergy in
the neighbourhood of the metropolis
are convinced that the rumour is with-
out foundation : and, though the Pope
is probably hovering about our coast
in a fishing smack, it is most likely he
will fall a prey to the vigilance of our
cruisers ; and it is certain he has not
yet polluted the Protestantism of our
soiL

Exactly in the same manner, the
story of the wooden gods seized at
Charing Cross, by an order from the

K 4

1-

136

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTER&

Foreign Office, turns ont to be without
the shadow of a foundation : instead
of the angels and archangels, men-
tioned by the informer, nothing was
discovered but a wooden image of
Lord Mulgrave, going down to Chat-
ham, as a head-piece for the Spanker
gun-vessel: it was an exact resem-
blance of his Lordship in his military
uniform ; and therefore as little like a
god as can well be imagined.

Having set your fears at rest, as to
the extent of the conspiracy formed
against the Protestant religion, I will
now come to the argument itself.

You say these men interpret the
Scriptures in an unorthodox manner,
and that they eat their God. — Very
likely. All this may seem very im-
portant to you, who live fourteen miles
from a market town, and, from long
residence upon your living, are become
a kind of holy vegetable ; and, in a
theological sense, it is highly impor-
tant. But I want soldiers and sailors
for the state ; I want to make a greater
use than I now can do of a poor coun-
try full of men ; I want to render the
military service popular among the
Irish ; to check the power of France j
to make every possible exertion for the
safety of Europe, which in twenty
years* time will be nothing but a mass
of French slaves : and then you, and
ten other such boobies as you, call out
— ** For God*s sake, do not think of
raising cavalry and infantry in Ireland !
.... They interpret the Epistle to
Timothy in a different manner from
what we do ! . ... They eat a bit of
wafer every Sunday, which they call
their God !"....! wish to my soul
they would eat you, and such reasoners
as yjou are. What! when Turk, Jew,
Heretic, Infidel, Catholic, Protestant,
are all combined against this country ;
when men of every religious persua-
sion, and no religious persuasion ; when
the population of half the globe is up
in arms against us ; are we to stand
examining our generals and armies as
a bishop examines a candidate for holy
orders ? and to suffer no one to bleed
for England who does not agree with
you about the 2nd of Timothy ? You
talk about Catholics ! If you and your

brotherhood have been able to persuade
the country into a continuation of this
grossest of all absurdities, you have
ten times the power which the Catholic
clergy ever had in their best days.
Louis XIY., when he revoked the
Edict of Nantes, never thought of pre-
venting the Protestants from fighting
his battles ; and gained accordingly
some of his most splendid victories by
the talents of his Protestant generals.
No power in Europe, but yourselves,
has ever thought for these hundred
years past, of asking whether a bayonet
is Catholic, or Presbyterian, or Lu-
theran; but whether it is sharp and
well-tempered. A bigot delights in
public ridicule ; for he begins to think
he is a martyr. I can promise you the
fuU enjoyment of this pleasure, from
one extremity of Europe to the other.

I am as disgusted with the nonsense
of the Boman Catholic religion as you
can be : and no man who talks such
nonsense shall ever tithe the product
of the earth, nor meddle with the ec-
clesiastical establishment in any shape;
— but what have I to do with the
speculative nonsense of his theology,
when the object is to elect the mayor
of a county town, or to appoint a
colonel of a marching regiment ? Will
a man discharge the solemn imperti-
nences of the one office with less zeal,
or shrink from the blood v boldness of
the other with greater timidity, because
the blockhead believes in all the Catho-
lic nonsense of the real presence ? I
am sorry there should be such impious
folly in the world, but I should be ten
times a greater fool than he is, if I
refused, in consequence of his folly, to
lead him out against the enemies of
the state. Your whole argument is
wrong : the state has nothing whatever
to do with theological errors which do
not violate the conunon rules of moral-
ity, and militate against the fair power
of the ruler; it leaves all these errors
to you, and to such as you. You have
every tenth porker in your parish for
refuting them ; and take care that you
are vigilant, and logical in the task.

I love the Church as well as you do ;
but you totally mistake the nature of
an establishment, when you contend

PETER PLYMLETS LETTERS.

137

that it ought to be connected with the
military and civil career of every indi-
vidual in the state. It is qaite right
that there should be one clergyman to
every parish interpreting the Scriptures
after a particular manner, ruled by a
regular hierarchy, and paid with a rich
proportion of haycocks and wheat-
sheafs. When I have laid this foun-
dation for a rational religion in the
8tate— when I have placed ten thousand
well educated men in different parts of
the kingdom to preach it up, and com-
peljed everybody to pay them, whether
they hear tiiem or not — I have taken
such measures as I know must always
procure an immense majority in favour
of the Established Church ; but I can
go no farther. I cannot set up a civil
inquisition, and say to one, you shall
not be a butcher, because you are not
orthodox ; and prohibit another from
brewing, and a third from administer-
ing the law, and a fourth from defend-
ing the country. If common justice
did not prohibit me from such a
conduct, common sense would. The
advantage to be gained by quitting
the heresy would make it shameful to
abandon it; and men who had once
left the Church would continue in such
a state of alienation from a point of
honour, and transmit that spirit to the
latest posterity. This is just the effect
your disqualifying laws have produced.
They have fed Dr. Rees, and Dr. Kip-
pis ; crowded the congregation of the
Old Jewry to suffocation ; and enabled
every sublapsarian, and superlapsarian,
and semi-pelagian clergyman, to build
himself a neat brick chapel, and live
with some distant resemblance to the
state of a gentleman.

You say the King's coronation oath
will not allow him to consent to any
relaxation of the Catholic laws. — Why
not relax the Catholic laws as well as
the laws against Protestant dissenters?
If one is contrary to his oath, the other
most be so too ; for the spirit of the
oath is, to defend the Church establish-
ment, which the Quaker and the Pres-
byterian differ from as much or more
than the Catholic ; and yet his Majesty
has repealed the Corporation and Test
Act in Ireland, and done more for the

Catholics of both kingdoms than had
been done for them since the Reforma-
tion. In 1778, the ministers said
nothing about the royal conscience ;
in 1793* no conscience; in 1804 no
conscience ; the common feeling of
humanity and justice then seem to
have had their fullest influence upon
the advisers of the Crown : but in
1807 — a year, I suppose, eminently
fruitful in moral and religious scruples
(as some years are fruitful in apples,
some in hops) — it is contended by the
well-paid John Bowles, and -by Mr.
Perceval (who tried to be well paid),
that that is now perjury which we had
hitherto called policy and benevolence!
Religious liberty has never made
such a stride as under the reign of his
present Majesty ; nor is there any
instance in the annals of our history,
where so many infamous and damna-
ble laws have been repealed as those
against the Catholics which have been
put an end to by him : and then, at
the close of this useful policy, his
advisers discover that the very mea*
sures of concession and indulgence,
or (to use my own language) the mea-
sures of justice, which he has been
pursuing through the whole of his
reign, are contrary to the oath he takes
at its commencement! That oath binds
his Majesty not to consent to any mea-
sure contrary to the' interest of the
Established Church : but who is to
judge of the tendency of each par-
ticular measure ? Not the King alone :
it can never be the intention pf this
law that the Eling, who listens to the
advice of his Parliament upon a road
bill, should reject it upon the most
important of all measures. Whatever
be his own private judgment of the
tendency of any ecclesiastical bill, he
complies most strictly with his oath,
if he is guided in that particular point
by the advice of his Parliament, who
may be presumed to understand its
tendency better than the King, or any
other individual. You say, if Parlia-
ment had been unanimous in their

* These feelings of humanity and justice
were at some periods a little quickened by
the representations of 40,000 armed volun-
teers.

138

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

opiDion of the absolate necessity for
Lord Howick*8 bill, and the King had
thought it pernicious, he would have
been perjured if he had not rejected
it. I saj, on the contrary, his Majesty
would have acted in the most consci-
entious manner, and have complied
most scrupulously with his oath, if he
had sacrificed his own opinion to the
opinion of the great council of the
nation ; because the probability was
that such opinion was better than his
own : and upon the same principle, in
common life, you give up your opinion
to your physician, your lawyer, and
your builder.

You admit this bill did not compel
the King to elect Catholic officers, but
only gave him the option of doing so
if he pleased ; but you add, that the
King was right in not trusting such
dangerous power to himself or his
successors. Now you are either to
suppose that the King for the time
being has a zeal for the Catholic es-
tablishment, or that he has not If he
has not, where is the danger of giving
such an option ? If you suppose that
he may be influenced by such an admi-
ration of the Catholic religion, why did
his present Majesty, in the year 1804,
consent to that bill which empowered
the Crown to station ten thousand
Catholic soldiers in any part of the
Idngdom, and placed them absolutely
at the disposal of the Crown ? If the
King of England for the time being is
a good Protestant, there can be no
danger in making the Catholic eligible
to anything : if he is not, no power
can possibly be so dangerous as that
conveyed by the bill last quoted ; to
which, in point of peril, Lord Howick's
bill is a mere joke. But the real fact
is, one bill opened a door to his Ma-
jesty's advisers for trick, jobbing, and
intrigue ; the other did not.

Brides, what folly to talk to me of
an oath, which, under all possible cir-
cumstances, is to prevent the relaxation
of the Catholic laws I for such a solemn
appeal to God sets all conditions and
contingencies at defiance. Suppose
Bonaparte was to retrieve the only
very great blunder he has made, and
were to succeed, after repeated trials,

in making an impression upon Ireland,
do you think we should hear anything
of the impediment of a coronation
oath? or would the spirit of this coun-
try tolerate for an hour such ministers,
and such unheard-of nonsense, if the
most distant prospect existed of con-
ciliating the Catholics by every sx)ecie8
even of the most abject concession ?
And yet, if your argument is good for
anything, the coronation oath ought
to reject, at such a moment, every ten-
dency to conciliation, and to bind Ire-
land for ever to the crown of France.

I found in your letter the usual
remarks about fire, fagot, and bloody
Mary. Are you aware, my dear Priest,
that there were as many persons put
to death for religious opmions under
the mild Elizabeth as under the bloody
Mary? The reign of the former was,
to be sure, ten times as long, but I only
mention the fact, merely to show you
that something depends upon the age
in which men live, as well as on their
religious opinions. Three hundred
years ago,lnen burnt and hanged each
other for these opinions. Time has
softened Catholic as well as Protestant :
they both required it ; though each
perceives only his own improvement,
and is blind to that of the other. We
are all the creatures of circumstances.
I know not a kinder and better man
than yourself ; but you (if you had
lived in those times) would certainly
have roasted your Catholic : and I
promise you, if the first exciter of this
religious mob had been as powerful
then as he is now, you would soon
have been elevated to the mitre. I do
not go to the length of saying that the
world has suffered as much from Pro-
testant as from Catholic persecution ;
far from it : but you should remember
the Catholics had all the power, when
the idea first started up in the world
that there could be two modes of faith;
and that it was much more natural
they should attempt to crush this di-
versity of opinion by g^eat and cruel
efibrts, than that the Protestants should
rage against those who differed from
them, when the very basis of their
system was conlplete freedom in all
spiritual matters.

PETER PLYMLErS LETTERS.

139

I cannot extend my letter any far-
ther at present, bnt jou shall soon bear
from me again. Yoa tell me I am a
party man. I hope I shall always be
80,ivhen I see my country in the hands
of a pert London joker and a second-
rate kwyer. Of the first, no other
good is known than that he makes
pretty Latin yerses ; the second seems
to me to have the head of a coun-
try parson, and the tongue of an Old
Bailey lawyer.

If I could see good measures pur-
sued, I care not a farthing who is in
power; but I have a passionate love
for common justice, and for common
sense, and I abhor and despise every
man who builds up his political fortune
upon their ruin.

God bless you, reverend Abraham,
and defend you from the Pope, and
all of ns fix)m that administration who
seek power by opposing a measure
which Burke, Pitt, and Fox all con-
sidered as absolutely necessary to the
existence of the country.

LETTER n.

Bear Abraham,

The Catholic not respect an oath !
why not ? What upon earth has kept
him out of Parliament, or excluded
him from all the offices whence he is
excluded, but his respect for oaths?
There is no law which prohibits a
Catholic to sit in Parliament There
could be no such law ; because it is
impossible to find out what passes in
the interior of any man's mind. Sup-
pose it were in contemplation to ex-
clude all men from certain offices who
contended for the legality of taking
tithes : the only mode of discovering
that fervid love of decimation which I
know you to possess would be to tender
yon an oath against that damnable
doctrine, that it is lawful for a spiritual
man to take, abstract, appropriate,
subduct, or lead away the tenth calf,
sheep, lamb, ox, pigeon, duck, &c.
&c. &c, and every other animal that
ever existed, which of course the law-
yers would take care to enumerate.
Now this oath I am sure you would

rather die than take ; and so the Catho-
lic is excluded from Parliament because
he will not swear that he disbelieves the
leading doctrines of his religion I The
Catholic asks you to abolish some
oaths which oppress him ; your answer
is, that he does not respect oaths. Then
why subject him to the test of oaths ?
The oaths keep him out of Parliament;
why, then, he respects them. Turn
which way you will, either your laws
are nugatory, or the Catholic is bound
by religious obligations as you are:
but no eel in the well-sanded fist of a
cook-maid, upon the eve of being
skinned, ever twisted and writhed as
an orthodox parson does when he is
compelled by the gripe of reason to
admit anything in favour of a Dis-
senter.

I will not dispute with yon whether
the Pope be or be not the Scarlet Lady
of Babylon. I hope it is not so; be-
cause I am afraid it will induce his
Majesty's Chancellor of the Exchequer
to introduce several severe bills against
popery, if that is the case; and though
he will have the decency to appoint a
previous committee of inquiry as to
the fact, the committee will be garbled
and the report inflammatory. Leaving
this to be settled as he pleases to settle
it, I wish to inform you, that previously
to the bill last passed in favour of the
Catholics, at the suggestion of Mr. Pitt,
and for his satisfaction, the opinions
of six of the most celebrated of
the foreign Catholic universities were
taken as to the right of the Pope to
interfere in the temporal concerns of
any country. The answer cannot pos-
sibly leave the shadow of a doubt, even
in the mind of Baron Maseres; and
Dr. Rennel would be compelled to
admit it, if three Bishops lay dead at
the very moment the question were
put to him. To this answer might be
added also the solemn declaration
and signature of all the Catholics in
Great Britain.

I should perfectly agree with you,
if the Catholics admitted such a dan-
gerous dispensing power in the hands
of the Pope ; but they all deny it, and
laugh at it, and are ready to abjure it
in the most decided manner you can

140

PETER PLYMLErS LETTERS.

devise. They obey the Pope as the
spiritual head of their church ; but are
you really so foolish as to be imposed
upon by mere names ? — What matters
it the seven thousandth part of a far-
thing who is the spiritual head of any
church ? Is not Mr. Wilberforce at
the head of the church of Clapham ?
Is not Dr. Letsom at the head of the
Quaker church ? Is not the General
Assembly at the head of the church of
Scotland? How is the government dis-
turbed by these many-headed churches?
or in what way is the power of the
Crown augmented by this almost no-
minal dignity?

The King appoints a fast day once
a year, and lie makes the Bishops : and
if the government would take half the
pains to keep the Catholics out of the
arms of France that it does to widen
Temple Bar, or improve Snow Hill,
the King would get into his hands the
appointments of the titular Bishops of
Ireland. — ^Both Mr. C *s sisters en-
joy pensions more than sufScient to
place the two greatest dignitaries of
the Irish Catholic Church entirely at
the disposal of the Crown. — ^Every-
body who knows Ireland knows per-
fectly well, that nothing would be
easier, with the expenditure of a little
money, than to preserve enough of the
ostensible appointment in the hands of
the Pope to satisfy the scruples of the
Catholics, while the real nomination
remained with the Crown. But, as I
have before said, the moment the very
name of Ireland is mentioned, the
English seem to bid adieu to conunon
feeling, common prudence, and common
sense, and to act with the barbarity of
tyrants, and the fatuity of idiots.

Whatever your opinion may be of
the follies of the Roman Catholic re-
ligion, remember they are the follies
of four millions of human beings, in-
creasing rapidly in numbers, wealth,
and intelligence, who, if firmly united
with this country, would set at defiance
the power of France, and if once
wrested from iheir alliance with Eng-
land, would in three years render its
eiustence as an independent nation
absolutely impossible. -You speak of
danger to the Establishment : I request

to know when the Establishment was
ever so much in danger as when Hoche
was in Bantry Bay, and whether all the
books of BoiBSuet, or the arts of the
Jesuits, were half so terrible? Mr.
Perceval and his parsons forgot all
thisj in their horror lest twelve or four-
teen old women may be converted to
holy water, and Catholic nonsense.
They never see that, while they are
saving these venerable ladies from per-
dition, Ireland may be lost, England
broken down, and the Protestant
Church, with all its deans, preben-
daries, Percevals and Rennels, be swept
into the vortex of oblivion.

Do not, I beseech you, ever mention
to me again the name of Dr. Duigenan.
I have been in every comer of Ireland,
and have studied its present strength
and condition with no common labour.
Be assured Ireland does not contain at
this moment less than five millions of
people. There were returned in the
year 1791 to the hearth tax 701,000
houses, and there is no kind of question
that there were about 50,000 houses
omitted in that return. Taking, how-
ever, only the number returned for the
tax, and allowing the average of six to
a house (a very small average for a
potato-fed people), this brings the popu-
lation to 4,200,000 people in the year
1791: and it can be shown from the
clearest evidence (and Mr. Newenham
in his book shows it), that Ireland for
the last fifty years has increased in its
population at the rate of 50,000 or
60,000 per annum ; which leaves the
present population of Ireland at about
five millions, after every possible de-
duction for existing drcumatances^ just
and necessary wars, monstrous and «n-
natnral rebellions^ and all other sources
of human destruction. Of this popu-
lation, two out of ten are Protestants ;
and the half of the Protestant popula-
tion are Dissenters, and as inimiad to
the Church as the Catholics themselves.
In this state of things, thumbscrews
and whipping — admirable engines of
policy, as they must be considered to
be — will not ultimately avail. The
Catholics will hang over you ; they
will watch for the moment, and compel
you hereafter to give them ten times as

PETER PLTMLETS LETTERS.

141

mach, against jonr will, as they would
now be contented with, if it were
voluntarily surrendered. Remember
what happened in the American war ;
when Ireland compelled you to give
her eTerything she asked, and to re-
noance, in the most explicit manner,
your claim of sovereignty over her.
God Almighty grant the folly of these
present men may not bring on such
another crisis of public affairs!

What are your dangers which
threaten the Establishment ? — Reduce
this declamation to a point, and let us
understand what you mean. The most
ample allowance does not calculate
that there would be more than twenty
members who were Roman Catholics
in one house, and ten in the other, if
the Catholic emancipation were carried
into effect. Do you mean that these
thirty members would bring in a bill
to take away the tithes from the Pro-
testant, and to pay them to the Catholic
clergy ? Do you mean that a Catholic
general would march his army into
the House of Commons and purge it
of Mr. Perceval and Dr. Duigenan ?
or, that the theological writers would
become all of a sndden more acute
and more learned, if the present civil
incapacities were removed ? Do you
fear for your tithes, or your doctrines,
or your person, or the English Consti-
tution ? Every fear, taken separately,
is so glaringly absurd, that no man has
the folly or the boldness to slate it.
Every one conceals his ignorance, or
his baseness, in a stupid general panic,
which, when Called on, he is utterly
incapable of explaining. "Whatever
you think of the Catholics, there they
are — you cannot get rid of them ; your
alternative is, to give them a lawful
place for stating their grievances, or an
unlawful one : if you do not admit
them to the House of Commons, they
will hold their parliament in Potato-
place, Dublin, and be ten times as
violent and inflammatory as they would
^ in Westminster. Nothing would
give me such an idea of securitv, as to
see twenty or thirty Catholic gentlemen
in Parliament, looked upon by all the
Catholics as the fair and proper organ
of their party. I should have thought

it the height of good fortune that such
a wish existed on their part, and the
very essence of madness and ignorance
to reject it Can you murder the
Catholics? — Can you neglect them?
They are too numerous for both these
expedients. What remains to done is
obvious to every human being — but to
that man who, instead of being a Me-
thodist preacher, is, for the curse of us
and our children, and for the ruin of
Troy, and the misery of good old
Priam and his sons, become a legislator
and a politician.

A distinction, I perceive, is taken,
by one of the most feeble noblemen in
Great Britain, between persecution and
the deprivation of political power ;
whereas there is no more distinction
between these two things than there is
between him who makesthe distinction
and a booby. If I strip off the relic-
covered jacket of a Catholic, and give
him twenty stripes .... I persecute :
if I say, Everybody in the town where
you l)ve shall be a candidate for lucra-
tive and honourable offices but you,
who are a Catholic .... I do not
persecute ! — What barbarous nonsense
is this ! as if degradation was not as
great an evil 'as bodily pain, or as
severe poverty: as if I could not be as
great a tyrant by saying. You shall
not enjoy — as by saying. You shall
suffer. The English, I believe, are as
truly religious as any nation in Europe;
I know no greater blessing: but it
carries with it this evil in its train —
that any villain who will bawl out
" The Church is in danger t " may get
a place and a good pension ; and that
any administration who will do the
same thing may bring a set of men
into power who, at a moment of sta-
tionary and passive piety, would be
hooted by the very boys in the streets.
But it is not all religion ; it is, in great
part, the narrow and exclusive spirit
which delights to keep the common
blessings of sun, and air, and freedom,
from other human beings. ** Your re-
ligion has always been degraded ; you
are in the dust, and I will take care
you never rise again. I should enjoy
less the possession of an earthly good,
by every additional person to whom it

142

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTER&

was extended.'* You may not be aware
of it yourself, most reverend Abraham,
but you deny their freedom to the
Catholics upon the same principle that
Sarah your wife refuses to give the
receipt for a ham or a gooseberry
dumpling : she values her receipts, not
because they secure to her a certain
flavour, but because they remind her
that her neighbours want it : — a feeling
laughable in a priestess, shameful in a
priest; venial when it withholds the
blessings of a ham, tyrannical and
execrable when it narrows the boon of
reli^ous freedom.

You spend a great deal of ink about
the character of the present prime
minister. Grant you all that you
write — I say, I fear he will ruin Ireland,
and pursue a line of policy destructive
to the true interest of his country: and
then you tell me, he is faithful to Mrs.
Perceval, and kind to the Master Per-
cevals! These are, undoubtedly, the
first qualifications to be looked to in a
time of the most serious public danger;
but somehow or another (if public and
private virtues must always be incom-
patible), I should prefer that he des-
troyed the domestic happiness of Wood
or Cockell, owed for the veal of the
preceding year, whipped his boys, and
saved his country.

The late administration did not do
right; they did not build their measures
upon the solid basis of facts. They
should have caused several Catholics
to have been dissected after death by
surgeons of either religion, and the re-
port to have been published with ac-
companying plates. If the viscera, and
other organs of life, had been found to
be the same as in Protestant bodies; if
the provisions of nerves, arteries, cere-
brum, and cerebellum, had been the
same as we are provided with, or as
the Dissenters are now known to
possess; then, indeed, they might have
met Mr. Perceval upon a proud emi-
nence, and convinced the country at
large of the strong probability that the
Catholics are really human creatures,
endowed with the feelings of men, and
entitled to all their rights. But instead
of this wise and prudent measure, Lord
Howick, with his usual precipitation,

brings forward a bill in their favour,
without offering the slightest proof to
the country that they were anything
more than horses and oxen. The per-
son who shows the lama at the corner
of Piccadilly has the precaution to
write up — Allowed by Sir Joseph Banks
to be a real qmuiruped: so his Lordship
might have said — AUowed by the Bench
of ^ishops to be reed human creatures

I could write you twenty letters

upon this subject ; but I am tired, and
so I suppose are you. Our friendship
is now of forty years' standing: yon
know me to be a truly religious man ;
but I shudder to see religion treated
like a cockade, or a pint of beer, and
made the instrument of a party. I love
the King, but I love the people as well
as the King ; and if I am sorry to see
his old age molested, I am much more
sorry to see four millions of Catholics
baffled in Uieur just expectations. If I
love Lord Grenville and Lord Howick,
it is because they love their country :
if I abhor ♦♦***♦, it is because I
know there is but one man among them
who is not laughing at the enormous
folly and credulity of the country, and
that he is an ignorant and mischievous
bigot. As for the light and frivolous
jester of whom it is your misfortune to
think so highly— learn, my dear Abra-
ham, that this political Eilligrew, just
before the breaking-up of the last ad-
ministration, was in actual treaty with
them for a place; and if they had
survived twenty-four hours longer, he
would have been now declaiming
against the cry of No Popery! instead
of inflaming it. — With this practical
comment on the baseness of human
nature, I bid you adieu !

LETTER IIL

All that I have so often told yon,
Mr. Abraham Plymley, is now come
to pass. The Scythians, in whom you
and the neighbouring country gentle-
men placed such confidence, are smit-
ten hip and thigh; their Benningsen
put to open shame ; their magazines of
train oil intercepted — and we are wak-
ing from our disgraceful drunkenness

PETER PLYMLEyS LETTERS.

143

to all the horrors of Mr. Perceval and
Mr. Canning. . . . We shall now see
if a nation is to be saved by school-boy
jokes and doggerel rhymes, by affront-
ing petulance, and by the tones and
gesticulations of Mr. Pitt. Bat these
are not all the auxiliaries on which we
have to depend ; to these his colleague
will add the strictest attention to the
smaller parts of ecclesiastical govern-
ment—to hassocks, to psalters, and to
surplices ; in the last agonies of Eng-
land, he will bring in a bill to regulate
Easter-offerings ; and he will adjust
the stipends of curates * when the flag
of France is unfurled on the hills of
Kent. Whatever can be done by very
mistaken notions of the piety of a
Christian, and by very wretched imita-
tion of the eloquence of Mr. Pitt, will
be done by these two gentlemen. After
all, if they both really were what they
both either wish to be or wish to be
thought; if the one were an enlighten-
ed Christian, who drew from the Gospel
the toleration, the charity, and the
sweetness which it contains ; and if
the other really possessed any portion
of the great understanding of his Nisus
who guarded him from the weapons of
the Whigs ; I should still doubt if they
could save us. But I am sure we are
not to be saved by religious hatred and
bjreligious trifling ; by any psalmody,
however sweet ; or by any /persecution,
however shai'p : I am certain the sounds
of Mr. Pitt's voice, and the measure of
his tones, and the movement of his
arms, wiU do nothing for us; when
these tones, and movements, and voice
bring us always declamation without
sense or knowledge, and ridicule with-
out good humour or conciliation. Oh,
Mr. Plymley, Mr. Plymley I this never
will do. Mrs. Abraham Plymley, my
sister, will be led away captive by an
amorous Gaul; and Joel Plymley,
your first-bom, will be a French drum-
mer.

" Out of sight, out of mind," seems
to be a proverb which applies to ene-
mies as well as friends. Because the

* The Eeverend the Chancellor of the
Exchequer has, since this was written,
found time in the heat of the session to
write a book on the Stipends of Curates.

French army was no longer seen from
the cliffs of Dover ; because the sound
of cannon was no longer heard by the
debauched London bather's on the
Sussex coast; because the Morning
Post no longer fixed the invasion some-
times for Monday, sometimes for Tues-
day, sometimes (positively for the last
time of invading) on Saturday; be-
cause all these causes of terror were
suspended, you conceived the power of
Bonaparte to be at an end, and were
setting off" for Paris, with Lord Hawkes-
bury the conqueror. — This is pre-
cisely the method in which the English
have acted during the whole of the
revolutionary war. If Austria or Prus-
sia armed, doctors of divinity immedi-
ately printed those passages out of
Habakkuk in which the destruction of
the Usurper by General Mack and the
Duke of Brunswick is so clearly pre-
dicted. If Bonaparte halted, there
was a mutiny, or a dysentery. If any
one of his generals was eaten up by
the light troops of Russia, and picked
(as their manner is) to the bone, the
sanguine spirit of this country dis-
played itself in all its glory. What
scenes of infamy did the Society for
the Suppression of Vice lay open to
our astonished eyes I tradesmen's
daughters dancing ; pots of beer car-
ried out between the first and second
lesson ; and dark and distant rumours
of indecent prints. Clouds of Mr.
Canning's cousins arrived by the wag-
gon ; aU the contractors left their cards
with Mr. Rose ; and every plunderer
of the public crawled out of his hole,
like slugs, and grubs, and worms, after
a shower of rain.

If my voice could have been heard
at the late changes, I should have said,
*' Gently ; patience ; stop a little ; the
time is not yet come ; the mud of
Poland will harden, and the bowels of
the French grenadiers will recover
their tone. When honesty, good sense,
and liberality have extricated you out
of your present embarrassment, then
dismiss them as a matter of course ;
but you cannot spare them just now.
Don't be in too great a hurry, or there
will be no monarch to flatter and no
country to pillage. Only submit for a

144

PETER PLT1ILE7S LETTER&

little time to be respected abroad ; over-
look the painful absence of the tax-
gatherer for a few years; bear np nobly
under the increase of freedom and of-
liberal policy for a little time, and I
promise you, at the expiration of that
period, yon shall be plundered, insulted,
disgraced, and restrained to your heart's
content. Do not imagine I have any
intention of putting servility and cant-
ing hypocrisy permanently out of place,
or of filling up with courage and sense
those ofSces which naturally devolve
upon decorous imbecility and flexible
cunning: give us only a little time to
keep off the hussars of France, and
then the jobbers and jesters shidl re-
turn to their birthright, and public
virtue be called by its own name of
fanaticisnu" * Such is the advice I
would have offered to my infatuated
countrymen ; bat it rained veiy hard
in November, Brother Abraham, and
the bowels of our enemies were loos-
ened, and we put our trust in white
fluxes and wet mud ; and there is no-
thing now to oppose to the conqueror of
the world but a small table wit, and
the sallow Surveyor of the Meltings.

You ask me, if I think it possible
for this country to survive the recent
misfortunes of Europe? — I answer you,
without the slightest degree of hesita-
tion : that if Bonaparte lives, and a
great deal is not immediately done for
the conciliation of the Catholics, it does
seem to me absolutely impossible but
that we must perish ; and take this with
you, that we shall perish without ex-
citing the slightest feeling of present
or future compassion, but fall amidst
the hootings and revilings of Europe,
as a nation of blockheads, Methodists,
and old women. If there were any

* This is Mr. Canning's term for the de-
tection of public abuses; a term invented
by him, and adopted by that simious para*
site who is always grmiiin^ at his heels.
Nature descends down to mflnite small-
ness. Mr. Canning has his parasites ; and
if you take a large buzzing blue-bottle fly,
and look at it in a microscope, you may see
20 or 30 little Ugly insects crawling about
it, which doubtless think their fl^ to be the
bluest, grandest, merriest, most important
animal in the universe, and are convinced
the world woiild be at an end if it ceased to
buzz.

great sceneiy, and heroic feelings, any
blaze of ancient Tirtne, any exalted
death, any termination of England that
would be ever remembered, ever hon-
oured in that western world, whsre
liberty is now retiring, conquest would
be more tolerable, and ruin more sweet;
but it is doubly miserable to become
slaves abroad, because we would be
tyrants at home; to persecute, when
we are contending against persecution;
and to perish, because we have raised
up worse enemies within, from our own
bigotry, than we are exposed to with-
out, from the unprincipled ambition of
France. It is, indeed, a most silly and
affecting spectacle to rage at such a
moment against our own kindred and
our own blood ; to tell them they can-
not be honourable in war, because thej
are conscientious in religion; to stipu-
late (at the very moment when we
should buy their hearts and swords at
any price) that they must hold up the
right hand in prayer, and not the left;
and adore one common God, by tam-
ing to the east rather than to the west.

What is it the Catholics ask of you?
Do not exclude us from the honours
and emoluments of the state, because
we worship God in one way, and you
worship him in another. In a period
of the deepest peac^ and the fattest
prosperity, this would be a fair request:
it should be granted, if Lord Hawkes-
bury had reached Paris, if Mr. Can-
ning's interpreter had threatened the
Senate in an opening Speech, or Mr.
Perceval explained to them the im-
provements he meant to introduce into
the Catholic religion ; but to deny the
Irish this justice now, in the present
state of Europe, and in the summer
months, just as the season for destroy-
ing kingdoms is coming on, is (beloved
Abraham), whatever you may think of
it, little short of positive insanity.

Here is a frigate attacked by a corsair
of immense strength and size, rigging
cut, masts in danger of coming by the
board, four foot water in the hold, men
dropping off very fast; in this dreadful
situation how do you think the Captain
acts (whose name shall be Perceval) ?
He calls all hands upon deck; talks to
them of King, country, glory, sweet-

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

145

hearts, gin, French prison, wooden
shoes, Old England, and hearts of oak :
they give three cheers, rush to their
gans, and, after a tremendous conflict,
succeed in beating oflf the enemy. Not
a syllable of all this: this is not the
manner in which the honourable Com-
mander goes to work: the first thing
he does is to secure 20 or 30 of his
prime sailors who happen to be Catho-
lics, to clap them in irons, and set over
them a guard of as many Protestants;
having taken this admiriU)le method of
defending himself against his infidel
opponents, he goes upon deck, reminds
the sailors, in a very bitter harangue,
that they are. of dificrent religions;
exhorts the Episcopal gunner not to
trust to the Presbyterian quarter-
master ; issues positive orders that the
Catholics should be fired at upon the
first appearance of discontent; rushes
through blood and brains, examining
his men in the Catechism and 39
Articles, and positively forbids every
one to sponge or ram who has not
taken the Sacrament according to the
Church of England. Was it right to
take out a captain made of excellent
British stufi^, and to put in such a man
a^this ? Is not he more like a parson,
or a talking lawyer, than a thorough-
bred seaman ? And built as she is of
heart of oak, and admirably maifhed,
is it possible with such a captain, to
save this ship from going to the
bottom ?

You have an argument, I perceive,
in common with many others, against
the Catholics, that their demands com-
plied with would only lead to further
exactions, and that it is better to resist
them now, before anything is conceded,
than hereafter, when it is found that all
concessions are in vain. I wish the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, who uses
this reasoning to exclude others from
their just rights, had tried its efficacy,
not by his understanding, but by (what
are full of much better things) his
pockets. Suppose the person to whom
he applied for the Meltings had with-
stood every plea of wife and fourteen
children, no business, and good charac-
ter, and refused him this paltry little
office, because he might hereafter at-
VoL. IL

tempt to get hold of the revenues of
the Duchy of Lancaster for life; would
not Mr. Perceval have contended
eagerly against the injustice of refusing
moderate requests, because immoderate
ones may hereafter be made ? Would
he not have said (and said truly).
Leave such exorbitant attempts as
these to the general indignation of the
Commons, who will take care to defeat
them when they do occur ; but do not
refuse me the Irons and the Meltings
now, because I may totally lose sight
of all moderation 'hereafter? Leave
hereafter to the spirit and the wisdom
of hereafter ; and do not be niggardly
now, from the apprehension that men
as wise as you should be profuse in
times to come.

You forget. Brother Abraham, that
it is a vast art (where quarrels cannot
be avoided) to turn the public opinion
in your favour and to the prejudice of
your enemy ; a vast privilege to feel
that you are in the right, and to make
him feel that he is in the wrong: a
privilege which makes you more than
a man, and your antagonist less; and
often secures victory, by convincing
him who contends, that he must submit
to injustice if he submits to defeat.
Open every rank in the army and the
navy to the Catholic ; let him purchase
at the same price as the Protestant (if
either Catholic or Protestant can pur-
chase such refined pleasures) the pri-
vilege of hearing Lord Castlereagh
speak for three hours; keep his clergy
from starving, soften some of the most
odious powers of the tjthing-man, and
you will for ever lay this formidable
question to rest But if I am wrong,
and you must quarrel at last, quarrel
upon just rather than unjust grounds;
divide the Catholic, and unite the Pro-
testant ; be just, and your own exertions
will be more formidable and their ex-
ertions less formidable; be just, and
you will take away from their party
all the best and wisest understand-
ings of both persuasions, and knit them
firmly to your own cause. " Thrice is
he armed who has his quarrel just;"
and ten times as much may he be taxed.
In the beginning of any war, however
destitute of common sense, every mob

L

146

PETER PLYMLEY^ LETTEB&

will roar, and ererj Lord of the Bed-
chamber address ; bnt if you are en-
gaged in a war that is to last for jears^
and to require important sacrifices, take
care to make the justice of your case
80 clear and so obrious, that it cannot
be mistaken by the most illiterate
country gentleman who rides the earth.
Nothing, in fact, can be so grossly ab-
surd as the argument which says, I will
deny justice to you now, because I
suspect future injustice from you. At
this rate, you may. lock a man up in
your stable, and refuse to let him out,
because you suspect that he has an
intention, at some future period, of
robbing your hen-roost. You may
horsewhip him at Lady-day, because
you believe he will affront you at Mid-
summer. You may commit a greater
evU, to guard against a less which is
merely contingent, and may never hap-
pen. You may do what you have done
a century ago in Ireland, made the
Catholics worse than Helots, because
you suspected that they might hereafter
aspire to be more than fellow-citizens;
rendering their sufferings certain from
your jealousy, while yours were only
doubtful from their ambition; an am-
bition sure to be excited by the very
measures which were taken to pre-
vent it.

The physical strength of the Catholics
will not be greater because you give
them a share of political power. You
may by these means turn rel)els into
friends; but I do not see how you make
rebels more formidable. If they taste
of the honey of lawful power, they will
love the hive from whence they procure
it ; if they will struggle with us like
men in the same state for civil influence,
we are safe. All that I dread is, the
physical strengh of four millions of men
combined with an invading French
army. If you are to quarrel at last
with this enormous population, still
put it off as long as you can ; you must
gain, and cannot lose, by the delay.
The state of Europe cannot be worse ;
the conviction which the Catholics en-
tertain of your tyranny and injustice
cannot be more alarming, nor the
opinions of your own people more
divided. Time, which produces such

eflect upon brass and marble, may in-
spi^ one Minister with modesty, and
another with compassion; erery cir-
cumstance may be better ; some certainly
will be so, none can be worse; and,
after aU, the evil may never happen.

You have got hold, I perceive, of all
the vulgar English stories respecting
the hereditary transmission of forfeited
property, and seriously believe that
every Catholic beggar wears the ter-
riers of his father's land next his skin,
and is only waiting for better times
to cut the throat of the Protestant
possessor, and get drunk in the hall of
his ancestors. There is one irresistible
answer to this mistake, and that is, that
the forfeited lands are purchased in-
discriminately by Catholic and Ptt>-
testant, and that the Catholic purchaser
never objects to such a title. Now the
land (so purchased by a Catholic) is
either his own family estate, or It is
not If it is, you suppose him so de-
sirous of coming into possession, that
he resorts to the double method of re-
bellion and purchase; if it is not his
own family estate of which he becomes
the purchaser, you suppose him first to
purchase, then to rebel, in order to
defeat the purchase. These things
may happen in Ireland; but it is totally
impossible they can happen anywhere
else. In fact, what land can any man
of any sect purchase in Ireland, but
forfeited property? In all other op-
pressed countries which I have ever
heard of, the rapacity of the conqueror
was bounded by the territorial limits
in which the objects of his avarice were
contained ; but Ireland has been actu-
ally confiscated twice over, as a cat is
twice killed by a wicked parish hoy,

I admit there is a vast luxury in
selecting a particular set of Christians,
and in wonting them as a boy worries
a puppy dog ; it is an amusement in
which all the young English are brought
up from their earliest days. I like the
idea of saying to men who use a dif-
ferent hassock from me, that till they
change their hassock, they shall never
be Colonels, Aldermen, or Parliament-
men. While I am gratifying my per-
sonal insolence respecting religious
forms, I fondle myself into an idea

PETER PLYMLErS LETTERS.

147

that I am religions, and that I am
doing my duty in the most exemplary
(as I certainly am in the most easy)
way. But then, my good Abraham,
this sport, admirable as it is, is become,
with respect to the Catholics, a little
dangerous; and if we are not extremely
careful in taking the amusement, we
shall tumble into the holy water, and
be drowned. As it seems necessary
to your idea of an established Church
to have somebody to worry and tor-
ment, suppose we were to select for
this purpose William Wilberforce, Esq.,
and the patent Christians of Clapham.
We shall by this expedient enjoy the
same opportunity for cruelty and in-
justice, without being exposed to the
same risks: we will compel them to
abjure vital clergymen by a puj)lic test,
to deny that the said William Wilber-
force has any power of working miracles,
touching for barrenness or any other
infirmity, or that he is endowed with
any preternatural gift whatever. We
will swear them to the doctrine of good
works, compel them to preach common
sense, and to hear it ; to frequent
Bishops, Deans, and other high Church-
men; and to appear (once in the quarter
at the least) at some melodrame. opera,
pantomime, or other light scenical re-
presentation; in short, we will gratify
the" love of insolence and power: we
will enjoy the old orthodox sport of
witnessing the impotent anger of men
compelled to submit to civil degrada-
tion, or to sacrifice their notions of
truth to ours. And all this we may
do without the slightest risk, because
their numbers are (as yet) not very
considerable. Cruelty and injustice
must, of course, exist: but why con-
nect them with danger? Why torture
a bull- dog, when you can get a frog or
a rabbit ? I am sure my proposal will
meet with the most universal approba-
tion. Do not be apprehensive of any
opposition from ministers. If it is a
case of hatred, we are sure that one
man will defend it by the Gospel : if it
abridges human freedom, we know that
another will find precedents for it in
the Revolution.

In the name of Heaven, what are we
to gain by suffering L'cland to be rode

by that faction which now predominates
over it ? Why are we to endanger our
own Church and State, not for 500,000
Episcopalians, but for ten or twelve
great Orange families, who have been
sucking the blood of that country for
these hundred years last past ? and the
folly of the Orangemen* in playing this
game themselves, is almost as absurd
as ours in playing it for them. They
ought to have the sense to see that
their business now is to keep quietly
the lauds and beeves of which the
fathers of the Catholics were robbed in
days of yore; they must give to their
descendants the sop of political power:
by contending with them for names,
they will lose realities, and be com-
pelled to beg their potatoes in a foreign
land, abhorred equally by the English,
who have witnessed their oppression,
and by the Catholic Irish, who have
smarted under them.

LETTER rV.

Then comes Mr. Isaac Hawkins Brown
(the gentleman who danced f so badly
at the Court of Naples,) and asks if it
is not an anomaly to educate men in
another religion than your own ? It
certainly is our duty to get rid of error,
and above all of religious error ; but
this is not to be done per saltum, or the
measure will miscarry, like the Queen.
It may be very easy to dance away the
royal embryo of a great kingdom ; but.
Mr. Hawkins Brown must look before
he leaps, when his object is to crush an

• This remark begins to be sensibly felt
in Ireland. The Protestants in Ireland are
fast coming over to the Catholic cause.

t In the third year of his present Majesty,
and in the 30th of his own age, Mr. Isaac
Hawkins Brown, then upon his travels,
danced One evening at the Court of Naples.
His dr^s was a volcano silk with lava but-
tons. Whether (as the Neapolitan wits
said) he had studied dancing under St.
Vitus, or whether David, dancing in a linen
vest, was his model, is not known; but Mr.
Brown danced Mdth such inconceivable
alacrity and vigour, that he threw the
Queen of Napl^ into convulsions of laugh-
ter, which terminated in a miscarriage, and
changed the dynasty of the Neapolitan
throne.

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148

PETER PLYMLErS LETTERa

opposite sect in religion ; false steps aid
the one effect, as much as they are
fatal to the other: it will require not
only the lapse of Mr. Hawkins Brown,
but the lapse of centaries, before the
absurdities of the Catholic religion are
laughed at as much as they deserve to
be^ but surely, in the meantime, the
Catholic religion is better than none;
four millions of Catholics are better
than four millions of wild beasts; two
hundred priests educated by our own
government are better than the same
number educated by the man who
means to destroy ns.

The whole sum now appropriated by
Government to the religious education
of four millions of Christians is 13,000il ;
a sum about one hundred times as large
being appropriated in the same country
to about one eighth part of this number
of Protestants. When it was proposed
to raise this grant from 8,000^ to
13,000/., its present amount, this sum
was objected to by that most iidulgent
of Christians, Mr. Spencer Perceval, as
enormous ; he himself having secured
for his own eating and drinking, and
the eating and drinking of the Master
and Miss Percevals, the reversionary
sum of 21,000/. a year of the public
money, and having just failed in a
desperate and rapacious attempt to
secure to himself for life the revenues
of the Duchy of Lancaster: and the
best of it is, that this Minister, after
abusing his predecessors for their im-
pious bounty to the Catholics, has
found himself compelled, from the
apprehension of immediate danger, to
grant the sum in question; thus dis-
solving his pearl • in vinegar, and
destroying all the value of the gift by
the virulence and reluctance with which
it was granted.

I hear from some persons in Parlia-
ment, and from others in the sixpenny
societies for debate, a great deal about
unalterable laws passed at the Revolu-
tion. When I hear any man talk of
an unalterable law, the only effect it
produces upon me is to convince me

• Perfectly ready at the same time to fol-
low the other half of Cleopatra's example,
aud to swallow the solution himself.

that he is an unalterable fool. A law
passed when there was Germany, Spain,
Russia, Sweden, Holland, Portugal,
and Turkey ; when there was a dis-
puted succession: when four or five
hundred acres were won and lost after
ten years' hard fighting ; when armies
were commanded by the sons of kings,
and campaigns passed in an inter-
change of civil letters and ripe fruit;
-and for these laws, when the whole
state of the world is completely changed,
we are now, according to my Lord
Hawkesbury, to hold ourselves ready
to perish. It is no mean misfortune,
in times like these, to be forced to saj
anything about such men as Lord
Hawkesbury, and to be reminded that
we are governed by them ; but as I am
driven to it, I must take the liberty of
observing, that the wisdom and liber-
ality of my Lord Hawkesbury are of
that complexion which always shrinks
from the present exercise of these
virtues, by praising the splendid ex-
amples of them in ages past If he
had lived at such periods, he would
have opposed the Revolution by prais-
ing the Reformation, and the Refor*
mation by speaking handsomely of the
Crusades. He gratifies his natural
antipathy to great and courageous
measures, by playing off the wisdom
and courage which have ceased to
influence human affairs against that
wisdom and courage which living men
would employ for present happiness.
Besides, it happens unfortunately for
the Warden of the Cinque Ports, that
to the principal incapacities under
which the Irish suffer, they were sub-
jected after that great and glorious
Revolution, to which we are indebted
for so many blessings, and his Lord-
ship for the termination of so many
periods. The Catholics were not ex-
cluded from the Irish House of Com-
mons, or military commands, before
the drd and 4th of William and Mary,
and the 1st and 2nd of Queen Anne.

If the great mass of the people,
environed as they are on every side
with Jenkinsons, Percevals, Melvilles,
and other perils, were to pray for
divine illumination and aid, what more
could Providence in its mercy do than

PETER J^LYMLErS LETTERS.

149

send tliem the example of Scotland ?
For what a length of years was it
attempted to compel the Scotch to
change their religion : horse, foot,
artillery, and armed Prebendaries, were
sent out after the Presbyterian parsons
and their congregations. The Perce-
Tals of those days called for blood:
this call is never made in vain, and
blood was shed ; but to the astonish-
ment and horror of the Percevals of
those days, they could not introduce
the Book of Common Prayer, nor
prevent that metaphysical people from
going to heaven their true way, instead
of our true way. With a little oatmeal
for food, and a little sulphur for friction,
allaying cutaneous irritation with the
one hand, and holding his Calvinistical
creed in the .other, Sawney ran away
to his flinty hills, sung his psalm out of
tune his own way, and listened to his
sermon of two hours long, amid the
rough and imposing melancholy of the
tallest thistles. But Sawney brought
up his unbreeched offspring in a cor-
dial hatred of his oppressors ; and
Scotland was as much a part of the
weakness of England then, as Ireland
is at this moment. The true and the
only remedy was applied ; the Scotch
were suffered to worship God after
tbeir own tiresome manner, without
pain, penalty, and privation. No
lightning descended from heaven; the
country was not ruined ; the world is
not yet come to an end; the dignitaries,
who foretold all these consequences,
are utterly forgotten, and Scotland has
ever since been an increasing source
of strength to Great Britain. In the
six hundredth year of our empire over
Ireland, we are making laws to trans-
port a man, if he is found out of his
house after eight o'clock at night.
That this is necessary, I know too
well ; but tell me why it is necessary?
It is not necessary in Greece, where
the Turks are masters.

Are you aware that there is at this
moment a universal clamour through-
out the whole of Ireland against the
Union ? It is now one month since I
returned from that country; I have
never seen so extraordinary, so alarm-
ing, and 8& rapid a change in the

sentiments of any people. Those who
disliked the Union before are quite
furious against it now; those who
doubted doubt no more: those who
were friendly to it have exchanged
that friendship for the most rooted
aversion : in the midst of all this (which
is by far the most alarming symptom),
there is the strongest disposition on
the part of the Northern Dissenters to
unite with the Catholics, irritated bv
the faithless injustice with which they
have been treated. If this combination
does take place (mark what I say to
you), you will have meetings all over
Ireland for the cry of No Union ; that
cry will spread like wild-fire, and blaze
over every opposition; and if this bo
the case, there is no use in mincing the
matter, Ireland is gone, and the death-
blow of England is struck ; and this
event may happen instantly — before
Mr. Canning and Mr. Hookham Frere
have turned Lord Howick's last speech
into doggerel rhyme; before " the near
and dear relations'* have received
another quarter of their pension, or
Mr. Perceval conducted the Curates*
Salary Bill safely to a third reading. —
If the mind of the English people,
cursed as they now are with that mad-
ness of religious dissension which has
been breathed into them for the pur-
poses of private ambition, can be
alarmed by any remembrances, and
warned by any events, they should
never forget how nearly Ireland was
lost to this country during the Ameri-
can war; that it was saved merely by
the jealousy of the Protestant Irish
towards the Catholics, then a much
more insignificant and powerless body
than they now are. The Catholic and
the Dissenter have since combined to-
gether against you. Last war, the
winds, those ancient and unsubsidised
allies of England, the winds, upon
which English ministers depend as
much for saving kingdoms as washer-
women do for drying clothes ; the
winds stood your friends: the French
could only get into Ireland in small
numbers, and the rebels were defeated.
Since then, all the remaining kingdoms
of Europe have been destroyed ; and
the Irish see that their national indeh

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150

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

pendence is gone, without having
received any single one of those
advantages which they were taught
to expect from the sacrifice. All good
things were to flow from the Union;
they have none of them gained any-
thing. Every man*s pride is wounded
by it ; no man's interest is promoted.
In the seventh year of that Union,
four million Catholics, lured by all kind^
of promises to yield up the separate
dignity and sovereignty of their country,
are forced to squabble with such a man
as Mr. Spencer Perceval for five
thousand pounds with which to edu-
cate their children in their own> mode
of worship; he, the same Mr. Spencer,
having secured to his own Protestant
self a reversionary portion of the pub-
lic money amounting to four times that
sum. A senior Proctor of the Uni-
versity of Oxford, the head of a house,
or the examining Chaplain to a Bishop,
may believe these things can last: but
every man of the world, whose under-
standing has been exercised in the
business of life, must see (and see with
a breaking heart) that they will soon
come to a fearful termination.

Our conduct to Ireland, during the
whole of this war, has been that of a
man who subscribes to hospitals, weeps
at charity sermons, carries out broth
and blankets to beggars, and then
comes home and beats his wife and
children. We had compassion for the
victims of all other oppression and in-
justice, except our own. If Switzerland
was threatened, away went a Treasury
Clerk with a hundred thousand pounds
for Switzerland; large bags of money
were kept constantly under sailing
orders; upon the slightest demonstra-
tion towards Naples, down went Sir
William Hamilton upon his knees, and
begged for the love of St. Januarius
they would help us off with a little
money; all the arts of Machiavel were
resorted to, to persuade Europe to
borrow ; troops were sent off in all
directions to save the Catholic and
Protestant world ; the Pope himself
was guarded by a regiment of English
dragoons; if the Grand Lama had been
at hand, he would have had another;
every Catholic Clergyman who had

the good fortune to be neither English
nor Irish, was immediately provided
with lodging, soap, crucifix, missal,
chapel-beads, relics, and holy water; if
Turks had landed, Turks would have
received an order from the Treasury
for coffee, opium, korans, and seraglios.
In the midst of all this fury of saving
and defending, this crusade for con-
science and Christianity, there was a
universal agreement among all de-
scriptions of people to continue every
species of internal persecution; to deny
at home every just right that had been
denied before; to pummel poor Dr.
Abraham Rees and his Dissenters ;
and to treat the unhappy Catholics of
Ireland as if their tongues were mate,
their heels cloven, their nature brutal,
and designedly subjected by Providence
to their Orange masters.

How would my admirable brother,
the Rev. Abraham Plymley, like to be
marched to a Catholic chapel, to be
sprinkled with the sanctified contents
of a pump, to hear a number of false
quantities in the Latin tongue, and to
see a number of persons occupied in
making right angles upon the breast
and forehead ? And if all this would
give you so much pain, what right
have you to march Catholic soldiers to
a place of worship, where there is no
aspersion, no rectangular gestures, and
where they understand every word they
hear, having first, in order to get him
to enlist, made a solemn promise to the
contrary ? Can you wonder, after
this, that the Catholic priest stops the
recruiting in Ireland, as he is now
doing to a most alarming degree ?

The late question, concerning mili-
tary rank did not individually affect
the lowest persons of the Catholic per-
suasion; but do you imagine they do
not sympathise with the honour and dis-
grace of their superiors ? Do you think
that satisfaction and dissatisfaction do
not travel down from Lord Fingal to
the most potatoless Catholic in Ireland,
and that the glory or shame of the sect
is not felt by many more than these
conditions personally and corporeally
affect ? Do you suppose that the de-
tection of Sir H. M. and the disap-
pointment of Mr. Perceval in the matter

PETER PLYMLEt'S LETTElia

151

of the Duchy of !Lancaster, did not
affect every dabbler in public property ?
Depend upon it these things were felt
through all the gradations of small
plunderers, down to him who filches a
pound of tobacco from the King's
warehouses; while, on the contrary,
the acquittal of any noble and ofScial
thief would not fail to diffuse the most
heartfelt satisfaction over the larcenous
and burglarious world. Observe, I do
not say because the lower Catholics
are affected by what . concerns their
superiors, that they are not affected by
what concerns themselves. There is
no disguising the horrid truth; tJiere
nust he some relaxation with respect to
tithe: this is the cruel and heart-rending
price which must be paid for national
preservation. I feel how little exist-
ence will be worth having, if any
alteration, however slight, is made in
the property of Irish rectors; I am
conscious how much such changes
must affect the daily and hourly com-
forts of every Englishman; I shall feel
too happy if they leave Europe un-
touched, and are not ultimately fatal
to the destinies of America; but I am
madly bent upon keeping foreign
enemies out of the British empire, and
my limited understanding presents me
with no other means of effecting my
object

You talk of waiting till another reign
before any alteration is made ; a pro-
posal full of good sense and good
nature, if the measure in question were
to pull down St. James's Palace, or to
alter Kew Gardens. Will Bonaparte
agree to put off" his intrigues, and his
invasion of Ireland ? If so, I will over-
look the question of justice, and finding
the danger suspended, agree to the
delay. I sincerely hope this reign may
last many years, yet the delay of a
single session of Parliament may be
fatal ; but if another year elapse with-
out some serious concession made to
the Catholics, I believe, before Ood,
that all future pledges and concessions
will be made in vain. I do not think
that peace will do you any good under
such circumstances : if Bonaparte give
you a respite, it will only be to get
ready the gallows on which he means

to hang you. The Catholic and the
Dissenter can unite in peace as well as
war. If they do, the gallows is ready ;
and your executioner, in spite of the
most solemn promises, will turn you off
the next hour.

With every disposition to please
(where to please within fair and ra-
tional limits is a high duly), it is im-
possible for public men to be long
silent about the Catholics ; pressing
evils are not got rid of, because they
are not talked of. A man may com-
mand his family to say nothing more
about the stone, and surgical opera-
tions: but the ponderous malice still
lies upon the nerve, and gets so big,
that the patient breaks his own law of
silence, clamours for the knife, and
expires under its late operation. Be-
lieve me, you talk folly, when you
talk of suppressing the Catholic ques-
tion. I wish to God the case admitted
of such a remedy: bad as it is, it does
not admit of it. If the wants of the
Catholics are not heard in the manly
tones of Lord Grenville, or the servile
drawl of Lord Castlereagh, they will
be heard ere long in the madness of
mobs, and the conflicts of armed men.

I observe, it is now universally the
fashion to speak of the first personage
in the state as the great obstacle to the
measure. In the first place, I am not
bound to believe such rumours because
I hear them; and. in the next place, I
object to such language, as unconsti-
tutionaL Whoever retains his situa-
tion in the ministry, while the incapa-
cities of the Catholics remain, is the
advocate for those incapacities ; and
to him, and to him only, am I to look
for refponsibility. But waive this
question of the Catholics, and put a
general case: — How is a minister of
this country to act when the conscien-
tious scruples of his Sovereign prevent
the execution of a measure deemed by
him absolutely necessary to the safety
of the country? His conduct is quite
clear — ^he should resign. But what is
his successor to do? — Resign. But
is the King to be left without ministers,
and is he in this manner to be com-
pelled to act against his own con-
science? Before I answer this, pray

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152

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

tell me in my turn, what better defence
is there against the machinations of a
'wicked, or the errors of a weak, Mon-
arch, than the impossibility of finding
a minister who will lend himself to vice
and folly? Every English Monarch,
in such a predicament, wonld sacrifice
his opinions and views to sach a clear
expression of the public will ; and it is
one method in which the Constitution
aims at bringing about such a sacrifice.
You may say, if you please, the ruler
of a state is forced to give up his object,
when the natural love of place and
power will tempt no one to assist him
in its attainment. This may be force;
but it is force without injury, and
therefore without blame. I am not to
be beat ont of these obvious reasonings,
and ancient constitutional provisions,
by the term conscience. There is no
fantasy, however wild, that a man may
not persuade himself that he cherishes
from motives of conscience ; eternal
war against impious France, or re-
bellious America, or Catholic Spain,
may in times to come be scruples of
conscience. One English Monarch
may, from scruples of conscience, wish
to abolish every trait of religious per-
secution ; another Monarch may deem
it his absolute and indispensable duty
to make a slight provision' for Dissen-
ters out of the revenues of the Church
of England. So that you see, Brother
Abraham, there are cases where it
would be the duty of the best and most
loyal subjects to oppose the conscien-
tious scruples of their Sovereign, still
taking care that their actions were
constitutional, and their modes respect-
ful. Then you come upon me with
personal questions, and say that no
such dangers are to be apprehended
now under our present gracious Sove-
reign, of whose good qualities we must
b3 all so well convinced. All these
sorts of discussions I beg leave to de-
cline ; what I have said upon consti-
tutional topics, I mean of course for
general, not for particular application.
i agree with you in all the good yo\i
have said of the powers that be, and I
avail myself of the opportunity of
pointing out general dangers to the
Constitution, at a moment when we

are so completely exempted firom their
present influence. I cannot finish this
letter without expressing my surprise
and pleasure at your abuse of the ser-
vile addresses poured in upon the
Throne ; nor can I conceive a greater
disgust to a Monarch, with a true
English heart, than to see such a ques-
tion as that of Catholic Emancipation
argued, not with a reference to its
justice or importance, but universally
considered to be of no further conse-
quence than as it afiects his own pri-
vate feelings. That these sentiments
should be mine, is not wondeiful ; but
how they came to be yours, does, I
confess, fill me with surprise. Are you
moved by the arrival of the Irish Brig-
ade at Antwerp, and the amorous vio-
lence which awaits Mrs. Plymley ?

LETTER V.

Dear Abraham,
I NEVER met a parson in my life, who
did not consider the Corporation and
Test Acts as the great bulwarks of the
Church ; and yet it is now just sixty-
four years since bills of indemnity to
destroy their penal efi^ects, or, in other
words, to repeal them, have been passed
annatUly as a matter of course.

Heu vaium ignariB mentes.

These bulwarks, without which no
clergyman thinks he could sleep with
his accustomed soundness, have ac-
tually not been in existence since any
man now living has taken holy orders.
Every year the Indemnity Act pardons
past breaches of these two laws, and
prevents any fi*e8h actions of informers
from coming to a conclusion before the
period for the next indemnity "bill ar-
rives; so that these penalties, by which
alone the Church remains in existence,
have not had pne moment's operatioa
for sixty-four years. You will say the
legislature, during the whole of this
period, has reserved to itself the dis-
cretion of suspending, or not suspend-
ing. But had not the legislature the
right of re-enacting, if it was necessary?
And now when yon have kept the vA
over these people (with the most scan-

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTEIiS.

153

daloas abase of all principle) for sixty-
four years, and not found it necessary
to strike once, is not that the best of all
reasons why the rod should be laid
aside? You talk to me 6f a very
valuable hedge running across your
fields which you would not part with
on any account. I go down, expecting
to find a limit impervious to cattle, and
highly useful for the preservation of
property; but, to my utter astonish-
ment, I find that the hedge was cut
down half a century ago, and that
every year the shoots are clipped the
mpment they appear above ground : it
appears, upon further inquiry, that the
hedge never ought to have existed at
all ; that it originated in the malice of
antiquated quarrels, and was cut down
because it subjected you to vast incon-
venience, and broke up your inter-
course with a country absolutely neces-
sary to your existence. If the remains
of this hedge serve only to keep up an
irritation in your neighbours, and to
remind them of the fends of former
times, good nature and good sense
teach you that you ought to grub it up,
and cast it into the oven. This is the
exact state of these two laws ; and yet
it is made a great argument against
concession to the Catholics, that it in-
volves their repeal; which is to say,
Do not make me relinquish a folly
that will lead to my ruin ; because, if
you do, I must give up other follies ten
times greater than this.

I confess, with all our bulwarks and
hedges, it mortifies me to the very
quick, to contrast with our matchless
stupidity, and inimitable folly, the con-
duct of Bonaparte upon the subject of
religious persecution. At the moment
when we are tearing the crucifixes
from the necks of the Catholics, and
washing pious mud from the foreheads
of the Hindoos ; at that moment this
man is assembling the very Jews at
Paris, and endeavouring to give them
stability and importance. I shall never
be reconciled to mending shoes in
America ; but I see it must be my lot,
and I will then take a dreadful revenge
upon Mr. Perceval, if I catch him
preaching within ten miles of me. I
cannot for the soul of me conceive

whence this man has gained his notions
of Christianity : he has the most evan-
gelical charity for errors in arithmetic,
and the most inveterate malice against
errors in conscience. While he rages
against those whom in the true spirit
of the Grospel he ought to indulge,
he forgets the only instance of seve-
rity which that Gk)spel contains, and
leaves the jobbers, and contractors,
and money-changers at their seats,
without a single stripe.

You cannot imagine, you say, that
England will ever be ruined and con-
quered ; and for no other reason that 1
can find, but because it seems so very
odd it should be ruined and conquered.
Alas ! so reasoned, in their time, the
Austrian, Russian, and Prussian Plym-
leys. But the English are brave : so
were all these nations. You might
get together a hundred thousand men
individually brave ; but without gene-
rals capable of commanding such a
machine, it would be as useless as
a first-rate man of war manned by
Oxford clergymen, or Parisian shop-
keepers. 1 do not say this to the dis-
paragement of English ofiicers : they
have had no means of acquiring ex-
perience ; but I do say it to create
alarm ; for we do not appear to me to
be half alarmed enough, or to enter-
tain that sense of our danger which
leads to the most obvious means of
self-defence. As for the spirit of the
peasantry in making a gallant defence
behind hedge-rows, and through plate-
racks and hen-coops, highly as I think
of their bravery, I do not know any
nation in Europe so likely to be struck
with the panic as the English ; and this
from their total imacquaintance with
the science of war. Old wheat and
beans blazing for twenty miles round ;
cart mares shot ; sows of Lord Somer-
ville's breed running wild over the
country ; the minister of the parish
wounded sorely in his hinder parts ;
Mrs. Plymley in fits ; all these scenes
of war an Austrian or a Russian has
seen three or four times over ; but it is
now three centuries since an English
pig has fallen in a fair battle upon
English ground, or a farm-house been
I rifled, or a clergyman's wife been sub-

154

PETER PLYilLErS LETTER&

jectcd to any other proposals of love
than the connnhial endearments of her
sleek and orthodox mate. The old
edition of Plutarch's Lires, which lies
in the corner of yoor parlour window,
has contrihated to work yon up to the
most romantic expectations of our Ro-
man beharioor. Yon are persuaded
that Lord Amhmt will defend Kew
Bridge like Codes ; that some maid of
honour will break away from her cap-
tivity, and swim over the Thames;
that the Duke of York will bum his
capitulating hand ; and little Mr.
Sturges Bourne * give forty years* pur-
chase for Monlsbiam Hall,* while the
French are encamped upon it. I hope
we shall witness ail this, if the French
do come ; but in the meantime I am
so enchanted with the ordinary English
behaviour of these invaluable persons,
that I earnestly pray no opportunity
may be given them for Roman valour,
and for those very un-Roman pensions
which they would all, of course, take
especial care to claim in consequence.
But whatever was our conduct, if every
ploughman was as great a hero as he
who was called from his oxen to save
Rome from her enemies, I should still
say, that at such a crisis yon want the
affections of all your subjects, in both
islands : there is no spirit which you
must alienate, no heart you must avert,
every man must feel he has a country,
-and that there is an urgent and pressing
cause why he should expose himself to
death.

The effects of penal laws, in matters
of religion, are never confined to those
limits in which the legislature intended
they should be placed : it is not only
that I am excluded from certain offices
and dignities because I am a Catholic,
but the exclusion carries with it a cer-
tain stigma, which degrades me in the
eyes of the monopolising sect, and the
very name of my religion becomes
odious. These effects are so very strik-
ing in England, that I solemnly believe
blue and red baboons to be more popu>

* There is nothing more objectionable in
Plymley's Letters than the abuse of Mr.
Sturges Bourne, who is an honourable, able,
and excellent person ; but such are the
malevolent effects of party sphit.

lar here than Catholics and Presbj-
terians ; they are more understood, and.
there is a greater disposition to do
something for them. When a country
squire hears of an ape, his first feeling
is to give it nuts and apples ; when he
hears of a Dissenter, his immediate
impulse is to commit it to the county
jail, to shave its head, to alter its cus-
tomary food, and to have it privately
whipped. This is no caricature, but
an accurate picture of national feelings,
as they degrade and endanger us at
this very moment. The Irish Catholic
gentleman would bear his legal disa-
bilities with greater temper, if these
were all he had to bear — if they did
not enable every Protestant cheese-
monger and tide-waiter to treat him
with contempt He is branded on the
forehead with a red-hot iron, and
treated like a spiritual felon, because,
in the highest of all considerations he
is led by the noblest of all guides, his
own disinterested conscience. .

Why are nonsense and cruelty a bit
the better because they are enacted ?
If Providence, which gives wine and
oil, had blessed us with that tolerant
spirit which makes the countenance
more pleasant and the heart more glad
than these can do ; if our Statute book
had never been defiled with such in-
famous laws, the sepulchral Spencer
Perceval would have been hauled
through the dirtiest horse-pond in
Hampstead, had he ventured to pro-
pose them. But now persecution is
good, because it exists ; eveiy law
which originated in ignorance and
malice, and gratifies the passions from
whence it sprang, we call the wisdom
of our ancestors : when such laws are
repealed, they will be cruelty and mad-
ness ; till they are repealed, they are
policy and caution.

I was somewhat amused with the
imputation brought against the Catho-
lics by the University of Oxford, that
they are enemies to liberty. I immedi-
ately turned to my History of England,
and marked as an historical error that
passage in which it is recorded that,
in the reign of Queen Anne, the fa-
mous decree of the University of Ox-
ford, respecting passive obedience, was

PETER PLYMLETS LETTERS.

155

ordered, by the Hoase of Lords, to be
barnt by the hands of the common
hangman, as contrary to the liberty of
the subject, and the law of the land.
Nevertheless, I wish, whatever be the
modesty of those who impute, that the
impatation was a little more tme, the
Catholic cause would not be quite so
desperate with the present Adminis-
tration. I fear, however, that the
hatred to liberty in these poor devoted
wretches may ere long appear more
doubtful than it is at present to the
Vice-Chancellor and his Clergy, in-

, flamed, as they doubtless are, with
classical examples of republican virtue,
and panting, as they always have been,
to reduce the power of the Crown
within narrower and safer limits. What
mistaken zeal, to attempt to connect
one religion with freedom and another
with slavery ! Who laid the founda-
tions of English liberty ? What was
the mixed religion of Switzerland?
What has the Protestant religion done
for liberty in Denmark, in Sweden,
throughout the North of Germany,
and in Prussia ? The purest religion
in the world, in my humble opinion, is
the religion of the Church of England:
for its preservation (so far as it is exer-
cised without intruding upon the liber-
ties of others) I am ready at this mo-
ment to venture my present life, and
but through that religion I have no
hopes of any other ; yet I am not forced
to be silly because I am pious; nor
will I ever join in eulogiums on my

, faith, which every man of common
reading and common sense can so
easily refute.

You have either done too much for
the Catholics (worthy Abraham), or
too little ; if you had intended to refuse
them politicfd power, you should have
refused them civil rights. After you
had enabled them to acquire property,
after you had conceded to them ^1
that you did concede in '78 and '93,
the rest is wholly out of your pow^er:
you may choose whether you will give
the rest in an honourable or a disgrace-
ful mode, but it is utterly out of your
power to withhold it.

In the last year, land to the amount
of eight hundred thousand pounds was

purchased by the Catholics in Ireland.
Do you think it possible to be- Perceval,
and be Canning, and be-Castlereagh,
such a body of men as this out of their
common rights, and their common
sense ? Mr. George Canning may
laugh and joke at the idea of Protes-
tant bailiffs ravishing Catholic ladies,
under the 9th clause of the Sunset Bill;
but if some better remedy be not ap-
plied to the distractions of Ireland
than the jocularity of Mr. Canning,
they will soon put an end to his pen-
sion, and to the pension of those **near
and dear relatives," for whose eating,
drinking, washing, and clothing, every
man in the United Kingdoms now pays
his two-pence or three-pence a year.
You may call these observations coarse,
if you please ; but I have no idea that
the Sophias and Carolines of any man
breathing are to eat national veal, to
drink public tea, to wear Treasury
ribands, and then that we are to be
told that it is coarse to animadvert
upon this pitiful and eleemosynary
splendour. If this is right, why not
mention it ? If it is wrong, why should
not he who enjoys the ease of support-
ing his sisters in this manner bear
the shame of it ? Everybody seems
hitherto to have spared a man who
never spares anybody.

As for the enormous wax candles,
and superstitious mummeries, and
painted jackets of the Catholic priests,
I fear them not. Tell me that the
world will return again under the in-
fluence of the smallpox ; that Lord
Castlereagh will nereafter oppose the
power of the Court ; that Lord Howick
and Mr. Grattan will do each of them
a mean and dishonourable action ; that
anybody who has heard Lord Redes-
dale speak once will knowingly and
willinj^ly hear him again ; that Lord
Eldon has assented to the fact of two
and two making four, without shedding
tears, or expressing the smallest doubt
or scruple ; tell me any other thing
absurd or incredible, but^ for the love
of common sense, let me hear no more
of the danger to be apprehended from
the general diffusion of Popery. It is
too absurd to be reasoned upon ; every
man feels it is nonsense when he hears

156

PETER PLYMI-ErS LETTERS.

it stated, and so does ereiy man while
be is stating it

I cannot imagine wfa j the friends to
the Church Esttiblishment shonld en-
tertain snch a horror of seeing the doors
of Parliament flnng open to the Catho-
lics, and Tiew so passively the enjoy-
ment of that right by the Presbyterians
and by every other species of Dissen-
ter, In their tenets, in their Church
government, in the nature of their en-
dowments, the Dissenters are infinitely
more distant from the Church of Eng-
land than the Catholics are ; yet the
Dissenters have never been excluded
from Parliament. There are 45 mem-
bers in one House, and 16 in the other,
who always are Dissenters. There is
no law which would prevent every
member of the Lords and Commons
from being Dissenters. The Catholics
could not bring into Parliament half
the number of the Scotch members ;
and yet one exclusion is of such im-
mense importance, because it has taken
place ; and the other no human being
thinks of, because no one. is accustomed
to it. I have often thought, if the
wisdom of our ancestors had excluded
all persons with red hair from the
House of Commons, of the throes and
convulsions it would occasion to restore
them to their natural rights. What
mobs and riots would it produce ! To
what infinite abuse and obloquy would
the capillary patriot be exposed ; what
wormwood would distil from Mr. Per-
ceval, what froth would drop from Mr.
Canning ; bow (I vfjUl not say my, but
our Lord Hawkesbury, for he belongs
to us all) — how our Lord Hawkesbury
would work away about the hair of
King William and Lord Somers, and
the authors of the great and glorious
licvolution) how Lord Eldon would
appeal to the Deity and his own virtues,
and to the hair of his children : some
would say that red-haired men were
superstitions ; some would prove they
were atheists ; they would be petitioned
against as the friends of slavery, and
the advocates for revolt ; in short, such
a corrupter of the heart and the under-
standing is the spirit of persecution,
that these unfortunate people (con-
spired against by their fellow-subjects

of every complexion), if they did not
emigrate to countries where hair of
another colour was persecuted, would
be driven to the fidsehood of pemkes,
or the hypocrisy of the Tricosian fluid.

As for the dangers of the Church
(in spite of the staggerinfi: events which
have lately taken place), I have not
yet entirely lost my confidence in the
power of common sense, and I believe
the Church to be in no danger at all ;
but if it is, that danger is not from the
Catholics, but from ^e Methodists, and
from that patent Christianity which
has been for some time mantifacturing
at Clapham, to the prejudice of the old
and admu^able article prepared bj the
C!hurch. I would counsel my lords
the Bishops to keep their eyes upon
that holy village, and its hallowed vi-
cinity: they will find there a zeal in
making converts far superior to any-
thing which exists among the Catho-
lics ; a contempt for the great mass
of English clergy, much more rooted
and profound ; and a regular fund to
purchase livings for those groaning
and garrulous gentlemen, whom they
denominate (by a standing sarcasm
against the regular Church) Gospel
preachers, and vital clergymen. I am
too firm a believer in the general pro-
priety and respectability of the Enji^lish
clergy, to believe they have much to
fear either from old nonsense, or from
new; but if the Church must be sup-
posed to be in danger, I prefer that
nonsense which is grown half venerable
from time, the force of which I have
already tried and baffled, which at least
has some excuse* in the dark and ignor-
ant ages in which it originated. The
religious enthusiasm manufactured by
living men before my own eyes disgusts
my understanding as much, influences
my imagination not at all, and excites
my apprehensions much more.

I may have seemed to yon to treat
the situation of public affairs with some
degree of levity ; but I feel it deeply,
and with nightly and daily anguish;
because I know Ireland ; I have known
it all my life ; I love it, and I foresee
the crisis to which it will soon be ex-
posed. Who can doubt but that Ire-
land will experience ultimately from

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

157

France a treatment to which the con-
duct they have experienced from Eng-
land is the love of a parent, or a
brother? Who can doubt bat that
five years after he has got hold of the
conn try, Ireland will be tossed away
by Bonaparte as a present to some one
of his ruffian generals, who will knock
the head of Mr. Keogh against the
head of Cardinal Troy, shoot twenty
of the most noisy blockheads of the
Roman persuasion, wash his pug-dogs
in holy water, and confiscate the salt
butter of the Milesian Republic to the
last tub f But what matters this ? or
who is wise enough in Ireland to heed
it ? or when had common sense much
influence with my poor dear Irish ?
Mr. Perceval does not know the Irish ;
but I know them, and I know that at
every rash and mad hazard, they will
break the Union, revenge their wound-
ed pride and their insulted religion, and
fling themselves into the open arms of
France, sure of dying in the embrace.
And now what means have you of
guarding against this coming evil, upon
which the future happiness or misery
of every Englishman depends ? Have
you a single ally in the whole world ?
Is there a vulnerable point in the
French empire where the astonishing
resources of that people can be at-
tracted and employed ? Have you a
ministry wise enough to comprehend
the danger, manly enough to believe
unpleasant intelligence, honest enough
to state their apprehensions at the peril
of their places ? Is there anywhere
the slightest disposition to join any
measure of love, or conciliation, or
hope, with that dreadful bill which the
distractions of Ireland have rendered
necessary ? At the very moment that
the last Monarchy in Europe has fallen,
are we not governed by a man of
pleasantry, and a man of theology? In
the six hundredth year of our empire
over Ireland, have we any memorial of
ancient kindness to refer to? any
people, any zeal, any country on which
we can depend ? Have we any hope,
but in the winds of heaven, and the
tides of the sea ? any prayer to prefer
to the Irish, but that they should forget
and forgive their oppressors, who, in

thQ very moment that they are calling
upon them for their exertions, solemn-
ly assure them that the oppression shall
still remain.

Abraham, farewell ! If I have tired
you, remember how often you have
tired me and others. I do not think
we really differ in, politics so much as
you suppose ; or, at least, if we do,
that difference is in the means, and not
in the end. We both love the Con-
stitution, respect the King, and abhor
the French. But though you love the
Constitution, you would perpetuate the
abuses which have been engrafted upon
it ; though you respect the King, you
would confirm his scruples against the
Catholics ; though you abhor the
French, you would open to them the
conquest of Ireland. My method of
respecting my Sovereign is by protect-
ing his honour, his empire, and his
lasting happiness ; I evince my love of
the Constitution, by making it the
guardian of all men's rights and the
source of their freedom ; and I prove
my abhorrence of the French, by unit-
ing against them the disciples of every
church in the only remaining nation in
Europe. As for the men of whom I
have been compelled in this age of
mediocrity to say so much, they cannot
of themselves be worth a moment's
consideration, to you, to me, or to any-
body. In a year after their death,
they will be forgotten as completely as
if they had never been ; and are now
of no further importance, than as they
are the mere vehicles of carrying into
effect, the common-place and mis-
chievous prejudices of the times in
which they live.

LETTER VI.

Deab Abraham,
What amuses me the most is to hear
of the indulgences which the Catholics
have received, and their exorbitance in
not being satisfied with those indul-
gences : now if you complain to me
that a man is obtrusive and shameless
in his requests, and that it is impossible
to bring him to reason, I must first of
all hear the whole of your conduct

158

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTEBS.

towards liim ; for 70U maj have taken
from him so mnch in tiie first instance,
that, in spite of a long series of rcsti-
tution, a vast latitude for petition may
still remain behind.

There is a village (no matter where)
in which the inhabitants, on one day
in the year, sit down to a dinner pre-
pared at the common expense ; by an
extraordinary piece of tyranny (which
Lord Hawkesbury would call the wis-
dom of the village ancestors), the in-
habitants of three of the streets, about
a hundred years ago, seized upon the
inhabitants of the fourth street, bound
them hand and frot, laid them upoQ
their backs, and compelled them to
look on while the rest were stuffing
themselves with beef and beer : the
next year the inhabitants of the perse*
cuted street (though they contributed
an equal quota of the expense) were
treated precisely in the same manner.
The tyratnny grew into a custom ; and
(as the manner of our nature is) it was
considered as the most sacred of all
duties to keep these poor fellows with-
out their annual dinner: the village
was so tenacious of this practice, that
nothing could induce them to resign it;
every enemy to it was looked upon as
a disbeliever in Divine Providence, and
any nefarious churchwarden who wish-
ed to succeed in his election had no-
thing to do but to represent his antago-
nist as an abolitionist, in order to
frustrate his ambition, endanger his
life, and throw the village into a state
of the most dreadful commotion. By
degrees, however, the obnoxious street
grew to be so well peopled, and its
inhabitants so firmly united, that their
oppressors, more afraid of injustice,
were more disposed to be just. At
the next dinner they are unbound, the
year after allowed to sit upright, then
a bit of bread and a glass of water ;
till at last, after a long series of con-
cessions, they are emboldened to ask,
in pretty plain terms, that they may be
allowed to sit down at the bottom of
the table, and to fill their bellies as well
as the rest. Forthwith a general cry
of shame and scandal : " Ten years
ago, were you not laid npon your
backs ? Don't you remember what a

great thing you thought it to get a
piece of bread ? How thankful yoa
were for cheese-parings ? Have you
forgotten that memorable era when the
lord of the manor interfered to obtain
for you a slice of the public padding ?
And now, with an audacity only equal-
led by your ingratitude, yon have the
impudence to ask for .knives and forks,
and to request, in terms too plain to be
mistaken, that you may sit down to
table with the rest, and be indulged
even with beef and beer: there are not
more than half a dozen dishes which
we have reserved for ourselves ; the
rest has been thrown open to yoa in
the utmost profusion ; you have pota-
toes, and carrots, suet dumplings, sops
in the pan, and delicious toast and
water, in incredible quantities. Beef,
mutton, lamb, pork, and veal are ours;
and if you were not the most restless
and dissatisfied of human beings, you
would never think of aspiring to enjoy
them.*'

Is not this, my dainty Abraham, the
very nonsense and the very insult which
is talked to and practised upon the
Catholics ? You are surprised that
men who have tasted of partial justice
should ask for perfect justice ; that he
who has been robbed of coat and cloak
wiU not be contented with the restitn-
tion of one of his garments. He
would be a very lazy blockhead if he
were content, and I (who, though an
inhabitant of the village, have pre-
served, thank God, some sense of jus-
tice), most earnestly counsel these half-
fed claimants to persevere in their just
demands, till they are admitted to a
more complete share of a dinner for
which they pay as much as the others;
and if they see a little attenuated
lawyer squabbling at the head of their
opponents, let them desire him to
empty his pockets, and to pull out all
the pieces of duck, fowl, and puddinjr,
which he has filched from the public
feast, to carry home to his wife and
children.

You parade a great deal upon the
vast concessions made by this country
to the Irish before the Union. I deny
that any voluntary concession was ever
made by England to Ireland. What

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

159

did Ireland eyer ask that was granted?
What did she ever demand Uiat was
not refused? How did she get her
Mutiny Bill — a limited parliament — a
repeal of Pojning's Law — a constitu-
tion ? Not by the concessions of Eng-
land, but by her fears. When Ireland
asked for all these things upon her
knees, her petitions were rejected with
Percevalism and contempt ; when she
demanded them with the yoice of
60,000 armed men, they were granted
with every mark of consternation and
dismay. Ask of Lord Auckland the
fatal consequences of trifling with such
a people as the Irish. He himself was
the organ of these refusals. As secre-
tary to the Lord-Lieutenant, the inso-
lence and the tyranny of this country
passed through his hands. Ask him
if he remembers the consequences.
Ask him if he has forgotten that me-
morable evening, when he came down
booted and mantled to the House of
Commons, when he told the House he
was about to set off for Ireland that
night, and declared before God, if he
did not carry with him a compliance
with all their demands, Ireland was for
ever lost to this country. The present
generation have forgotten this ; but I
have not forgotten it ; and I know,
hasty and undignified as the submission
of England then was, that Lord Auck-
land was right, that the delay of a
single day might very probably have
separated the two people for ever. The
terms submission and fear are galling
terras, when applied from the lesser
nation to the greater ; but it is the
plain historical truth, it is the natural
consequence of injustice, it is the pre-
dicament in which every country places
itself which leaves such a mass of
hatred and discontent by its side. No
empire is powerful enough to endure it;
it would exhaust the strength of China,
and sink it with all its mandarins and
tea-kettles to the bottom of the deep.
By refusing them justice, now when
you are strong enough to refuse them
anything more than justice, you will
act over again, with the Catholics, the
same scene of mean and precipitate
submission which disgraced you before
America, and before the volunteers of

Ireland. We shall live to hear the
Hampstead Protestant pronouncing
such extravagant panegyrics upon holy
water, and paying such fulsome com*
pliments to the thumbs and offals of
departed saints, that parties will change
sentiments, and Lord Henry Petty and
Sam Whitbread take a spell at No
Popery. The wisdom of Mr. Fox was
alike employed in teaching his country
justice when Ireland was weak, and
dignity when Ireland was strong. We
are fast pacing round the same miser-
able circle of ruin and imbecility.
Alas ! where is our guide ?

You say that Ireland is a millstone
about our necks ; that it would bo
better for us if Ireland were sunk at
the bottom of the sea ; that the Irish
are a nation of irreclaimable savages
and barbarians. How often have I
heard these sentiments fall from the
plump and thoughtless squire, and
from the thriving English shopkeeper,
who has never felt the rod of an
Orange master upon his back. Ire-
land a millstone about your neck !
Why is it not a stone of Ajax in your
hand ? I agree with you most cor-
dially, that, governed as Ireland now is,
it would be a vast accession of strength
if the waves of the sea were to rise and
engulf her to-morrow. At this moment,
opposed as we are to all the world,
the annihilation of one of the most
fertile islands on the face of the globe,
containing five millions of human
creatures, would be one of the most
solid advantages which could happen
to this country. I doubt very much,
in spite of all the just abuse which
has been lavished upon Bonaparte,
whether there is any one of his con-
quered countries the blotting out of
which would be as beneficial to him
as the destructibn of Ireland would
be to us : of countries I speak differ-
ing in language from the French, little
habituated to their intercourse, and
inflamed with all the resentments of a
recently conquered people. Why will
you attribute the turbulence of our
people to any cause but the right — to
any cause but your own scandalous op-
pression ? If you tie your horse up to a
gate, and beat him cruelly, is he vicious

160

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTEB&

because be kicks yon ? If you bave
plagued and worried a mastiff dog for
years, is be mad because be flies at yon
wbenever be sees yoa ? Hatred is
an active, troublesome passion. De-
pend upon it, wbole nations bave
always some reason for their batred.
Before you refer tbe turbulence of the
Irisb to incurable defects in their
character, tell me if you have treated
them as friends and equals ? Have
yon protected their commerce ? Have
you respected their religion ? Have
you been as anxious for their freedom
as your own ? Nothing of all this.
What then ? Why you have confis-
cated the territorial surface of tbe coun-
try twice over: you have massacred
and exported her inhabitants : you have
deprived four fifths of them of every
*civii privilege : you have at every
period made her commerce and manu-
factures slavishly subordinate to your
own : and yet the hatred which tbe
Irish bear to you is tbe result of an
original turbulence of character, and
of a primitive, obdurate wildness,
utterly incapable of civilisation. The
embroidered inanities and the sixth-
form effusions of Mr. Canning are
really not powerful enough to make
me believe this; nor is there any
authority on earth (always excepting
the Dean of Christ Church) which
could make it credible to me. I am
sick of Mr. Canning. There is not a
*' ha'p'orth of bread to all this sugar
and sack." I love not the cretaceous
and incredible countenance of his col-
league. The only opinion in which
I agree with these two gentlemen is
that which they entertain of each other;
I am sure that the insolence of Mr.
Pitt, and the unbalanced accounts of
Melville, were far better than the perils
of this new ignorance : —

Nonne Aiit satiua tristes AmaryUidis iras
Atque superba pati fiutidia — nonne Me-

nalcam
Quamvis ille nigerf

In tbe midst of tbe most profound
peace, the secret articles of the Treaty
of Tilsit, in which the destruction of
Ireland is resolved upon, induce you
to rob the Danes of their fleet. After
tbe expedition sailed comes the Treaty ,

of Tilsit, containing no article*,
public or private, alluding to Ireland.
Tbe state of tbe world, you tell me,
justified us in doing this. Just God !
do we think only of tbe state of the
world when there is an opportanity
for robbery, for murder, and for plun-
der ; and do we forget the state of
the world when we are called upon to
be wise, and good, and just ? l>oe8
the state* of the world never remind
us, that we have four millions of sub-
jects whose injuries we ought to atone
for, and whose affections we ought to
conciliate ? Does the state of the
world never warn us to lay aside oar
infernal bigotry, and to arm every
man who acknowledges a God and
can grasp a sword ? Did it never
occur to this administration that they
might virtuously get hold of a force
ten times greater than the force of the
Danish fleet ? Was there no other
way of protecting Ireland, but by-
bringing eternal shame upon Grreat
Britain, and by making the earth
a den of robbers ? See what the
men whom you have supplanted
would have done. They would have
rendered the invasion of Ireland im-
possible, by restoring to the Catholics
their long-lost rights : they would
have acted in such a manner that the
French would neither have wished
for invasion, nor dared to attempt it :
they would have increased the per-
manent strength of the country while
they preserved its reputation unsullied.
Nothing of this kind your friends have
done, because they are solemnly
pledged to do nothing of this kind ;
because to tolerate all religions, and
to equalise civil rights to all sects, is
to oppose some of the worst passions
of our nature — to plunder and to op-
press is to gratify them all. They
wanted tbe huzzas of mobs, and they
iiavc for ever blasted the fame of
England to obtain them Were the
fleets of Holland, France, and Spain
destroyed by larceny ? You resisted
the power of 150 sail of the line by
sheer courage, and violated every
principle of morals from the dread of

* This is now completely oonfesaed to be
the case by ministers.

PETER PLYMLETS LETTERS.

161

15 hulks, while the expedition itself
cost yoa three times more than the
valae of the larcenous matter brought
.away. The Erencli trample upon the
laws of God and man, not for old
cordage, but for kingdoms, and always
take care to be well paid for their
crimes. We contrive, under the pre-
sent administration, to unite moral
with intellectual deficiency, and to
grow weaker and worse by the same
action. If they had any evidence of
the intended hostility of the Danes,
why was it not produced ? Why
have the nations of Europe been al-
lowed to feel an indignation against
this country beyond the reach of all
subsequent information? Are these
times, do you imagine, when we can
trifle with a year of universal hatred,
dally with the curses of Europe, and
then regain a lost character at plea-
sure, by the parliamentary perspira-
tions of the Foreign Secretary, or the
solemn asseverations of the pecuniary
Bose? Believe me, Abraham, it is
not under such ministers as these that
the dexterity of honest Englishmen
will ever equal the dexterity of French
knaves ; it is not in their presence that
the serpent of Moses will ever swallow
up the serpents of the magician.

Lord Hawkesbury says that nothing
is to be granted to the Catholics from
fear. What ! not even justice? Why
not ? There are four nullions of dis-
affected people within twenty miles of
your own coast. I fairly confess,
that the dread which I have of their
physical power, is with me a very
strong motive for listening to their
claims. To talk of not acting from
fear is mere parliamentary cant. From
what motive but fear, I should be
glad to know, have all the improve-
ments in our constitution proceeded ?
I question if any justice has ever been
(lone to large masses of mankind from
any other motive. By what other
motives can the plunderers of the
Baltic suppose nations to be governed
in their intercourse with each other?
If I say, give this people what they
ask because it is just, do you think I
should get ten people to listen to me ?
Would not the lesser of the two

VoL.n.

Jenkinsons be the first to treat me
with contempt ? the only true way to
make the mass of mankind see the
beauty of justice, is by showing to
them in pretty plain terms the conse-
quences of injustice. If any body of
French troops land in Ireland, the
whole population of that country will
rise against you to a man, and you
could not possibly survive such an
event three years. Such from the
bottom of my soul, do I believe to be
the present state of that country ; and
so far does it appear to me to be im-
politic and unstatesmanlike to con-
cede anything to such a danger, that
if the Catholics, in addition to their
present just demands, were to petition
for the perpetual removal of the said
Lord Hawkesbury from his Majesty's
councils, I think, whatever might be
the . effect upon the destinies of
Europe, and however it might retard
our own individual destruction, that
the prayer of the petition should be
instantly complied with. Canning's
crocodile tears should not move me ;
the hoops of the maids of honour
should not hide him. I would tear
him from the banisters of the back
stairs, and plunge him in the fishy
fumes of the dirtiest of all his Cinque
Ports.

LETTER Vn.

Dbab Abraham,
In the correspondence which is pass*
ing between us you are perpetually
alluding to the Foreign Secretary ;
and in answer to the dangers of Ire-
land, which I am pressing upon your
notice, you have nothing to urge but
the confidence which you repose in the
discretion and sound sense of this
gentleman.* I can only say, that I
have listened to him long and often,

* The attack upon virtue and morals in
the debate upon Copenhagen is brought
forward with great ostentation by this.gen-
tleman's friends. But is Harlequin less
Harlequin because he acts well f I was
present: he leaped about, touched facts
with his wand, turned yes into no» and no
into yes : it was a pantomime well played,
but a pantomime: Harlequin deserves
higher wages than he did two years ago : is
he therefore fit for serious parts f

M

162

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

with the greatest attention ; I have
used every exertion in my power to
take a fair measure of him, and it ap-
pears to me impossible to hear him
upon any arduous topic without per-
ceiving that he is eminently deficient
in those solid and serious qualities
upon which, and upon which alone,
the confidence of a great country can
properly repose. He sweats, and
labours, and works for sense, and Mr.
Ellis seems always to think it is com-
ing, but it does not come ; the machine
can't draw up what is not to be found
in the spring ; Providence has made
him a light, jesting, paragraph-writ-
ing man, and that he will remain to
his dying day. When he is jocular
he is strong, when he is serious he is
like Samson in a wig : any ordinary
person is a match for him : a song, an
ironical letter, a burlesque ode, an
attack in the Newspaper upon NicoH's
eye, a smart speech of twenty minutes,
full of gross misrepresentations and
clever turns, excellent language, a
spirited manner, lucky quotation, suc-
cess in provoking dull men, some half
information picked up in Pall Mall in
the morning : these are your friend's
natural weapons ; all these things he
can do ; here I allow him to be truly
great : nay, I will be just, and go still
further, if he would confine himself to
these things, and consider the facete
and the playful to be the basis of his
character, he would for that species
of man, be universally regarded as a
person of a very good understanding ;
call him a legislator, a reasoner, and
the conductor of the affairs of a great
nation, and it seems to me as al&urd
as if a butterfly were to teach bee^s to
make honey. That he is an extraor-
dinary writer of small poetry, and a
diner out of the highest lustre, I do
most readily admit. After George
Selwyn, and perhaps Tickell, there
has been no such man for this half
century. The Foreign Secretary is a
gentleman, a respectable as well as a
highly agreeable man in private life ;
but you may as well feed me with de-
cayed potatoes as console me for the
miseries of Ireland by the resources of
his sense and his discretion. It is only |

the public situation which this gentle-
man holds which entitles me or
induces me to say so much about him.
He is a fly in amber, nobody cares
about the fly: the only question is.
How the Devil did it get there ? Nor
do I attaek him for the love of
glory, but from the love of utility, as
a burgomaster hunts a rat in a
Dutch dyke, for fear it should flood a
province.

The friends of the Catholic question
are, I observe, extremely embarrassed
in arguing when they come to the
loyalty of the Irish Catholics. As for
me, I shall go straight forward to my
object, and state what I have no man-
ner of doubt, from an intimate know-
ledge of Ireland, to be the plain truth.
Of the great Roman Catholic proprie-
tors, and of the Catholic prelates,
there may be a few, and but a few,
who would follow the fortunes of
England at all events : there is
another set of men who, thoroughly
detesting this country, have too much
property and too much character to
lose, not to wait for some very favour-
able event before they show them-
selves ; but the great mass of Catho-
hc population, upon the slightest
appearance of a iYench force in that
country, would rise upon yon to a
man. It is the most mistaken policy
to conceal the plain truth. There is
no loyalty among the Catholics : they
detest you as their worst oppressors,
and they will continue to detest you
till yon remove the cause of their
hatred. It is in your power in six
months* time to produce a total revo-
lution of opinions among this people ;
and in some future letter I will ^ow
you that this is clearly the case. At
present, see what a dreadful state Ire-
land is in. The common toast among
the low Irish is, the feast of the pass'
over. Some allusion to Bonaparte, in
a play lately acted at Dublin, pro-
duced thunders of applause from the
pit and the galleries ; and a politician
should not be inattentive to the public
feelings expressed in theatres. Mr.
Perceval thinks he has disarmed the
Irish : he has no more disarmed the
Irish than he has resigned a shilling

PETER PLTMLEY'S LETTERS.

163

of his own public emolaments. An
Irish * peasant fills the barrel of his
gun full of tow dipped in oil, batters
up the lock, buries it in a bog, and
allows the Orange bloodhound to ran-
sack his cottage at pleasure. Be just
and kind to the Irish, and you will
indeed disarm them ; rescue them from
the degraded servitude in which thej
are held bj a handful of their own
countrymen, and. you will add four
millions of brave and affectionate men
to your strength. Nightly visits, Pro-
testant inspectors, licences to possess
a pistol, or a knife and fork, the
odious vigour of the et}<mgelical
Perceval — acts of Parliament, drawn
up by some English attorney, to save
you from the luitred of four millions
of people — the guarding yourselves
from universal disaffection by a police;
a confidence in the little cunning
of Bow Street, when you might
rest your security upon the eternal
basis of the best feelings : this is the
meanness and madness to which
nations are reduced when they lose
Bight of the first elements of justice,
without which a country can be no
more secure than it can be healthy
without air. I sicken at such policy
and such men. The fact is, the
Ministers know pothing about the
present state of Ireland ; Mr. Perceval
sees- a few clergymen. Lord Castle-
reagh a few general officers, who take
care, of course, to report what is
pleasant rather than what is true. As
for the joyous and lepid consul, he
jokes upon neutral flags and frauds,
jokes upon Irish rebels, jokes upon
northern, and western, and southern*
foes, and gives himself no trouble upon
any subject : nor is the mediocrity of
the idolatrous deputy of the slightest
Qse. Dissolved in grins, he reads no
memorials upon the state of Ireland,
listens to no reports, asks no questions,
ftnd is the

" Bourn from whom no traveller returns."

* No man who is not intimately ac-
(piainted with the Irish, can tell to what
a curious extent this concealment of arms
u carried. I have stated the exact mode in
whiehitiBdone^

The danger of an immediate insur-
rection is now, I believe* f blown ovef.
Ton have so strong an army in Ire*
land, and the Irish are become so
much more cunning from the last in-
surrection, that yon may perhaps be
tolerably secure just at present frt>m
that evil : bnt are yon secure from the
efforts which the French may make
to throw a body of troops into
Ireland ? and do you consider that
event to be difficult and improbable ?
From Brest Harbour to Cape St.
Vincent, yon have above three thou-
sand miles of hostile sea coast, and
twelve or fourteen harbours quite
capable of containing a sufficient force
for the powerful invasion of Ireland.
The nearest of these harbours is not
two days' sail from the southern coast
of Ireland, with a fair leading wind ;
and the furthest not ten. Five ships
of the line, for so very short a passage,
might carry -five or six thousand
troops with cannon and ammunition ;
and Ireland presents to their attack a
southern coast of more than 500
miles, abounding in deep bays,
admirable harbours, and disaffected
inhabitants. Your blockading ships
may be forced to come home for pro-
visions and repairs, or they may be
blown off in a gale of wind and com-
pelled to bear away for their own
coast; — and you will observe, that
the very same wind which locks you
up in the British Channel when you
are got there, is evidently favourable *
for the invasion of Ireland. And yet
this is called Government, and the
people huzza Mr. Perceval for continu-
ing to expose his country day after
day to such tremendous perils as
these ; cursing the men who would
have given up a question in theology
to have saved us from such a risk.
The British empire at this moment is
in the state of a peach-blossom — if
the wind blows gently from one
quarter, it survives, if furiously from
the other, it perishes. A stiff breeze
may set in from the north, the Roche-
fort squadron will be taken, and the

* I know too much, however, of the state
of Ireland, not to speak tremblingly about
this. I hope to God I am right.

U2

164

PETER PLYMLErS LETTEE&

Minister will be the most holjr of
men : if it comes from some other
point, Ireland is gone ; we curse onr-
selves as a set of monastic madmen,
and call out for the unavailing satis-
faction of Mr. Perceval's head. Such
a state of political existence is scarcely
credible ; it is the action of a mad
young fool standing upon one foot,
and peeping down the crater of Mount
JEtna, not the conduct of a wise and
sober people deciding upon their best
and dearest interests : and in the
name, the much-injured name, of
Heaven, what is it all for that we ex-
pose ourselves to these dangers ? Is
it that we may sell more muslin ? Is
it that we may acquire more territory?
Is it that we may strengthen what We*
have already acquired ? No : no-
thing of all this ; but that one set of
Irishmen may torture another set of
Irishmen — that Sir Phelim 0*Cal-
laghan may continue to whip Sir
Toby M*Tackle, his next door neigh-
bour, and continue to radish his
Catholic daughters ; and these are the
measures which the honest and con-
sistent Secretary supports ; and this
is the Secretary, whose genius in the
estimation of Brother Abraham is to
extinguish the genius of Bonaparte.
Pompey was killed by a slave, Goliah
smitten by a stripling, Pynrhus died
by the hand of a woman ; tremble,
thou great Gaul, from whose head an
armed Minerva leaps forth in the
hour of danger ; tremble, thou
scourge of God, a pleasant man is
come out against thee, and thou shalt
be laid low by a joker of jokes, and
he shall talk his pleasant talk against
thee, and thou shalt be no more !

You tell me, in spite of all this
parade of sea coast, Bonaparte has
neither ships nor sailors ; but this is a
mistake. He has not ships and sailors
to contest the empire of the seas with
Great Britain, but these remains quite
sufficient of the navies of Prance,
Spain, Holland, and Denmark, for
these short excursions and invasions.
Do you think, too, that Bonaparte
does not add to his navy every year ?
Do yon suppose, with all Europe at
his feet, that he can find any difficulty

in obtaining timber, and that money
will not procure for him any quantity
of naval stores he may want ? The
mere machine, the empty ship, he can
build as well, and as quickly, as you
can ; and though he may not find
enough of practised sailors to man
large fighting fleets — it is not possi-
ble to conceive that he can want
sailors for such sort of purposes as I
have stated. He is at present the de-
spotic monarch of above twenty thou-
sand miles of sea coast, and yet you
suppose he cannot procure sailors for
the invasion of Ireland. Believe, if
you please, that such a fleet met at
sea by any number of our ships at all
comparable to them in point of
force, would be immediately taken,
let it be so; I count nothing upon
their power of resbtance, only upon
their power of escaping unobserved.
If experience has taught us anything,
it is the impossibility of perpetnal
blockades. The instances are innu-
merable, during the course of this war,
where whole fleets have sailed in and
out of harbour in spite of every vigi-
lance used to prevent it. I shall only
mention those cases where Ireland is
concerned. In December, 1796, seven
ships of the line, and ten transports,
reached Bantry Bay" from Brest, with-
out having seen an English ship in
their passage. It blew a storm when
they were off shore, and therefore
England still continues to be an inde-
pendent kingdom. You will observe
that at the very time the French fleet
sailed out of Brest Harbour, Admiral
Colpoys was cruising off" there with a
poweifttl squadron, and still, from the
particular circumstances of the weather,
found it impossible to prevent the
French from coming out During the
time that Admiral Colpoys was cruis-
ing off Brest, Admiral Richery, with
six ships of the line, passed him, and
got safe into the harbour. At the
very moment when the French squad-
ron was lying in Bantry Bay. Lord
Bridport with his fleet was locked up
by a foul wind in the Channel, andfor
several days could not stir to the assist-
ance of Ireland. Admiral Colpoys,
totally unable to find the French fleet,

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERa

165

came home- Lord Bridport, at the
change of the wind, cruised for them
in vain, and they got safe back to
Brest, without having seen a single
oue of those floating bulwarks, the
possession of which we believe will
enable us with impunity to set justice
and common sense at defiance. Such
is the miserable and precarious state
of an anemocracy, of a people who put
their trnst in hurricanes, and are
governed by wind. In August. 179«,
three forty-gun frigates landed 1100
men under Humbert, making the pas-
sage from Rochelle to Killala without
seeing any English ship. In October
of the same year, four French frigates
anchored in Killala Bay with 2000
troops; and though they did not land
their troops, they returned to France
in safety. In the same month, a line-
of-battle ship, eight stout frigates, and
a brig, all full of troops and stores,
reached the coast of Ireland, and were
fortunately, in sight of land, destroyed,
after an obstinate engagement, by Sir
John Warren.

If you despise the little troop which,
in these numerous experiments, did
make good its landing, take with you,
if yon please, this pricis of its exploits :
eleven hundred men, commanded by
a soldier raised from the ranks, put to
rout a select army of 6000 men, com-
manded by General Lake, seized their
ordnance, ammunition, and stores, ad-
vanced 160 miles into a country con-
taining an armed force of 150,000 men,
and at last surrendered to the Viceroy,
an experienced general, gravely and
cautiously advancing, at the head of
all his chivalry and of an immense
army, to oppose him. You must ex-
cuse these details about Ireland ; but
it appears to me to be of all other
subjects the most important. If we
conciliate Ireland, we can do nothing
amiss ; if we do not, we can do nothing
well. If Ireland was friendly, we
might equally set at defiance the talents
of Bonaparte, and the blunders of his
rival, Mr. Canning; we could then
support the ruinous and silly bustle of
our useless expeditions, and the almost
incredible ignorance of our commer-
cial Orders in ConnciL Iiet the pre-

sent administration give up but this
one point, and there is nothing which
I would not consent to grant them.
Mr. Perceval shall have full liberty to
insult the tomb of Mr. Fox, and to
torment every, eminent Dissenter in
Great Britain ; IJbrd Camden shall
have large boxes of plums ; Mr. Rose
receive permission to prefix to his
name the appellative of virtuous ; and
to the Viscount Castler^agh * a round
sum of ready money shall be well and
truly paid into his hand. Lastly, what
remains to Mr. George Canning, but
that he ride up and down Pall Mall
glorious upon a white horse, and that
they cry out before him. Thus shall it
be done to the statesman who hath
written "The Needy Knife-Grinder,"
and the German play? Adieu only
for the present; you shall soon hear
from me again ; it is a subject upon
which I cannot Ions be silent.

LETTER VIIL

Nothing can be more erroneous than
to suppose that Ireland is not bigger
than the Isle of Wight, or of more
consequence than Guernsey or Jersey;
and yet I am almost inclined to be-
lieve, from the general supineness
which prevails here respecting the
dangerous state 6f that country, that
such is the rank which it holds in our
statistical tables. I have been writing
to you a great deal about Ireland, and
perhaps it may be of some use to state
to you concisely the nature .and re-
sources of the country which has been
the subject of our long and strange
correspondence. There were returned,
as I have before observed, to the
hearth tax, in 1791, 701,132 f houses,
which Mr. Newenham shows, from
unquestionable documents, to be nearly
80,000 below the real number of

* This is a very unjust imputation on
Lord Gastlereagh.

tThe checks to population were very
trifling from the rebellion. It lasted two
months: of his Majesty's Irish forces there
perished about 1600: of the rebels 11,000
were killed in the field, and 2000 hanged or
exported: 400 loyal persons were assassi-
nated

MS

166

FETEB FLYMLET^ LETTEB&

honses in that coantry. There are
27,457 square English miles in Ire-
land *, and more than five millions of
people.

By the last snrrej it appears that
the inhabited hooaes in England and
Wales amount to 1,574,902; and the
]X>pnlation to 9,343,578, which gives
an average of 5{ to each hoase, in a
country where the deosi^ of popula-
tion is certainly less considerable than
in Ireland. It is commonly supposed
that two-fifths of the army and navy
are Irishmen, at periods when political
disaffection does not avert the Catho-
lics from the service. The current
value of Irish exports in 1807 was
9,314,8542. 17<. 7dL ; a state of com-
merce about equal to the commerce of
England in the itaiddle of the reign of
George IL The tonnage of ships
entered inward and cleared outward
in the trade of Ireland, in 1807,
amounted to 1,567,430 tons. The
quantity of home spirits exported
amounted to 10,284 gallons in 1796,
and to 930,800 gallons in 1804. Of
the exports which I have stated, pro-
visions amounted to four millions, and
linen to about four millions and a half.
There was exported from Ireland,
upon an average of two years ending
in January, 1804, 591,274 barrels of
barley, oats, and wheat; and by weight
910,848 cwts. of flour, oatmeal, barley,
oats, and wheat The amount of
butter exported in 1804, from Ireland,
was worth, in money, 1,704,680/.
sterling. The importation of ale and
beer, from the immense manufactures
now carrying on of these articles, was
dimmished to 3209 barrels, in the year
1804, from 111,920 barrels, which was
the average importation per annum,
taking from three years ending in
1792 ; and at present there is an ex-
port trade of porter. On an average
of the three years ending March, 1783,
there were imported into Ireland, of
cotton wool, 3326 cwts., of cotton
yarn, 5405 lbs. ; but on an average of
three years, ending January, 1803,
there were imported, of the first ar-
ticle, 13,159 c\ns., and of the latter,

* In England 49,460.

628,406 lbs. It is impossible to con-
ceire any mannfiacture more flourishing.
The export of linen has increased in
Ireland firom 17,776,362 yards, the
average in 1770, to 43,534,971 yards,
the amount in 1805. The tillage of Ire-
land has more than trebled within the
last twenty-one years. The impor-
tation of coals has increased from
230,000 tons, in 1783, to 417,030, in
1804 ; of tobacco, from 3,459,861 lbs.
in 1783, to 6,611,543, in 1804; of
tea, from 1,703,855 lbs. in 1783, to
3,358,256, in 1804; of sugar, fr-om
143,117 cwts. in 1782, to 309,076, in
1804. Ireland now supports a funded
debt of about 64 millions ; and it is
computed that more than three millions
of money are annually remitted to
Irish absentees resident in this country.
In Mr. Foster's report, of 100 folio
pages, presented to the House of
Commons in the year 1806, the total
expenditure of Ireland is stated at
9,760,0132. Ireland has increased
about two-thirds in its population
within twenty-five years; and yet,
and in about the same space of time,
its exports of beef, bullocks, cows,
pork, swine, butter, wheat, barley, and
oats, collectively taken, have doubled ;
and this in spite of two years' famine,
and the presence of an immense army,
that is always at hand to guard the
most valuable appanage of our empire
from joining our most inveterate ene-
mies. Ireland has the greatest possible
facilities for carrying on commerce with
the whole of Europe: It contains,
within a circuit of 750 miles, 66 secure
harboars ; and presents a western
frontier against Great Britain, reach-
ing from the Firth of Clyde, north, to
the Bristol Channel, south, and vary-
ing in distance from 20 to 100 miles ;
so that the subjugation of Ireland
would compel us to guard with ships
and soldiers a new line of coast,
certainly amounting, with all its sinu-
osities, to more than 700 miles — an
addition of polemics, in our present
state of hostility with all the world,
which must highly gratify the vigorists,
and give them an ample opportunity
of displaying that foolish energy upon
which their claims to distinction are

PETER FLYMLBY>S LETTERS.

167

founded. Sach is the coantiy which
the Right Reverend the Chancellor of
the Exchequer would drive into the
anns of France ; and for the concili-
ation of which we are requested to
wait, as if it were one of those sinecure
places which were given to Mr. Perce-
val snarling at the hreast, and which
cannot he abolished till his decease.

How sincerely and fetventlj have I
often wished that the Emperor of the
French had thought as Mr. Spencer
Perceval does upon the subject of
government; that he had entertained
doubts and scruples upon the pro-
priety of admitting the Protestants to
an equality of rights with the Catholics,
and that he had left in the middle of
bisempire these vigorous seeds of hatred
and disaffection ! • But the world was
never yet conquered by a blockhead.
One of the very first measures we saw
him recurring to was the complete
establishment of religious liberty : if
his subjects fought and paid as he
pleased, he allowed them to believe as
they pleased : the moment I saw this,
my best hopes were lost. I perceived
in a moment the kind of man wc had
to do with. I was well aware of the
miserable ignorance and folly of this
country upon the subject of toleration ;
and every year has been adding to the
success of that game which it was
dear he had the will and the ability
to play against us.

You say Bonaparte is not in earnest
upon the subject of religion, and that
this is the cause of his tolerant spirit ;
bat is it possible you can intend to
give us such dreadful and unamiable
notions of religion ? Are we to under-
stand that the moment a man is sincere
he is narrow-minded ; that persecution
is the child of belief; and that a
desire to leave all men in the quiet
and unpunished exercise of their own
creed can only exist in the mind of an
infidel ? Thank God I I know many
men whose principles are as firm as
they are expanded, who cling tenaci-
ously to their own modification of the
Christian faith, without the slightest
disposition to force that modification
vpon other people. If Bonaparte is
liberal in subjects of religion because

he has no religion^ is this a reason why
we should be illiberal because we are
Christians ? If he owes this excellent
quality to a vice, is that any reason
why we may not owe it to a virtue ?
Toleration is a great good, and a good
to be imitated, let it come from whom
it will. If a sceptic is tolerant, it only
shows that he is not foolish in practice
as well as erroneous in theory. * If a
religious man is tolerant, it evinces
that he is religious from thought and
inquiry, because he exhibits in his
conduct one of the most beautiful and
important consequences of a religious
mind, — an inviolable charity to
all the honest varieties of human
opinion.

Lopd Sidmouth, and all the anti-
Catholic people, little foresee that they
will hereafter be the sport of the anti-
quary; that their prophecies of ruin
and destruction from Catholic emanci-
pation will be clapped into the notes of
some quaint history^ and be matter of
pleasantry even to the sedulous house-
wife and the rural dean. There is
always a copious supply of Lord Sid-
mouths in the world ; nor is there one
single source of human happiness,
against which they have not uttered
the most lugubrious predictions. Turn-
pike roads, navigable canals, inocula-
tion, hops, tobacco, the Reformation,
the Revolution — there are always a
set of worthy and moderately-gifted
men, who bawl out death and ruin
upon every valuable change which the
varying aspect of human affairs abso-
lutely and imperiously requires. I
have often thought that it woufd be
extremely useful to make a collection
of the hatred and abuse that all those
changes have experienced, which are
now admitted to be marked improve-
ments in our condition. Such a his-
tory might make folly a little more
modest, and suspicious of its own
decisions.

Ireland, you say, since the Union,
is to be considered as a part of the
whole kingdom ; and therefore, how-
ever Catholics may predominate in
that particular spot, yet, taking the
whole empire together, they are to be
considered as a much more insignifi*

M4-

168

PETER PLYMLEY*S LETTERS.

cant qaota of the population* Consider
them in what light yoa please, as part
of the whole, or hy themselves, or in
what manner maj be most consen-
taneous to the devices of your holy
mind — I say in a very few words, if
you do not relieve these people from
the civil incapacities to which they
are exposed, you will lose them ; or
you must employ great strength and
much treasure in watching over them.
In the present state of the world, yon
can afford to do neither the one nor
the other. Having stated this, I shall
leave you to be ruined, Fuffendorf in
hand (as Mr. Secretary Canning says),
and to lose Ireland, just as you have
found out what proportion the ag-
grieved people should bear to the
whole population, before their cala-
mities meet with redress. As for your
parallel cases, I am no more afraid of
deciding upon them than I am npon
their prototype. If ever any one
heresy should so far spread itself over
the principality of Wales that the
Established Church were left in a
minority of one to four ; if you had
subjected these heretics to very severe
civil privations ; if the consequence of
such privations were a universal state
of disaffection among that caseous and
wrathful people ; and if at the same
time you were at war with all the
world, how can you doubt for a moment
that I would instantly restore them to
a state of the most complete civil
liberty? What matters it under what
name you put the same case ? Com-
mon, sense is not changed by appel-
lations. I have said how I would act
to Ireland, and I would act so to all
the world.

I admit that, to a certain degree,
the Government will lose the affections
of the Orangemen by emancipating
the Catholics ; much less, however, at
present, than three years past. The
few men, who have ill*treated the
whole crew, live in constant terror
that the oppressed people will rise upon
them and carry the ship into Brest: —
they begin to find that it is a very
turesome thing to sleep every night
with cocked pistols under their pillows,
and to brefUcfast, dine, and sup with

drawn hangers. They suspect that
the privilege of beating and kicking
the rest of the sailors is hardly worth
all this anxiety, and that if the ship
does ever fall into the hands of the
disaffected, all the cruelties which they
have experienced will be thorooghly
remembered and amply repaid. To a
short period of disaffection among the
Orangemen, I confess I should not
much object: my love of poetical
justice does carry me as far as that ;
one summer's whipping, only one: the
thumb-screw for a short season ; a
little light easy torturing between
Lady-day and Michaelmas ; a short
specimen of Mr. Percevars rigour. I
have malice enough to ask tUs slight
atonement for the groans and shrieks
of the poor Catholics, unheard by any
human tribunal, but registered by the
Angel of €rod against their Protestant
and enlightened oppressors.

Besides, if yon who count ten so
often can count five, you most per-
ceive that it is better to have fonr
friends and one enemy than four
enemies and one friend ; and the more
violent the hatred of the Orangemen,
the more certain the reconciliation of
the Catholics. The disaffection of the
Orangemen will be the Irish rainl)ow ;
when I see it, I shall be sure that the
storm is over.

If those incapacities, from which the
Catholics ask to be relieved, were to
the mass of them only a mere feeling
of pride, and if the question were res-
pecting the attainment of privileges
which could be of importance only to
the highest of the sect, I should still
say, that the pride of the mass was
very naturally wounded by the degra-
dation of their superiors, indignity
to George Rose would be felt by the
smallest nummary gentleman in the
king's employ; and Mr. John Bannister
could not be indifferent to anything
which happened to Mr. Canning. But
the truth is, it is a most egregious mis-
take to suppose that the Catholics are
contending merely for the fringes and
feathers of their chiefs. I will give
yon a list, in my next Letter, of those
privations which are represented to be
of no consequence to anybody but

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

169

Lord Finga], and some twentj or
thirty of the principal persons of their
sect. In the meantime, adieu, and be
wise.

LETTER IX.

Dear Abraham,
Ko Catholic can be chief Governor or
Governor of this Kingdom, Chancellor
or Keeper of the Great Seal, Lord
High Treasurer, Chief of any of the
Courts of Justice, Ctiancellor of the
Exchequer, Puisne Judge, Judge in
the Admiralty, Master of the Bolls,
Secretary of State, Keeper of the
Privy Seal, Vice-Treasurer or his
Deputy, Teller or Cashier of Ex-
chequer, Auditor or General, Governor
or Cnstos Rotulorum of Counties,
Chief Governor's Secretary, Privy
Councillor, King's Counsel, Sergeant,
Attorney, Solicitor-General, Master in
Chancery, Provost or Fellow of Trinity
College, Dublin, Postmaster-General,
Master and Lieutenant- General of Or-
dnance, Commander-in-Chief, General
on the Staff, Sheriff, Sub- Sheriff,
Mayor, Bailiff, Recorder, Burgess, or
any other officer in a City, or a Cor-
poration. No Catholic can be guardian
to a Protestant, and no priest guardian
at all: no Catholic can be a game-
keeper, or have for sale, or other-
wise, any arms or warlike stores : no
Catholic can present to a living, unless
he choose to turn Jew in order to obtain
that privilege; the pecuniary qualifi-
cation of Catholic jurors is made higher
than that of Protestants^ and no relax-
ation of the ancient rigorous code is
permitted, unless to those who shall
take an oath prescribed by 13 & 14
Geo. IIL Now if this is not picking
the plums out of the pudding, and
leaving the mere batter to the Catholics,
I know not what is. If it were merely
the Privy Council, it would be (I allow)
nothing but a point of honour for
which the mass of Catholics were con-
tending, the honour of being chief-
mourners or pall- bearers to the country;
but surely no man will contend that
every barrister may not speculate upon
the' possibility of being a puisne Judge;

and that every shopkeeper must not feel
himself injured by his exclusion from
borough offices.

One of flie greatest practical evil«
which the Catholics suffer in Ireland
is their exclusion from the offices of
Sheriff and Deputy Sheriff. Noliody
who is unacquainted with Ireland can
conceive the obstacles which this
opposes to the fair administration of
justice. The formation of juries is
now entirely in the hands of the
Protestants ; the lives, liberties, and
properties of the Catholics in the
hands of the juries; and this is the*
arrangement for the adminbtration of
justice in a country where religious
prejudices are inflamed to the greatest
degree of animosity! In this country,
if a man be a foreigner, if he sell
slippers, and sealing wax, and artificial
flowers, we are so tender of human
life that we take care half the number
of persons who are to decide upon his
fate should be men of similar prejudices
and feelings with himself : but a poor
Catholic in Ireland may be tried by
twelve Percevals, and destroyed ac-
cording to the manner of that gentle-
man in the name of the Lord, and
with all the insulting forms of justice.
I do not go the length of saying that
deliberate and wilful injustice is done.
I have no doubt that the Orange
Deputy Sheriff thinks it would be a
most unpardonable breach of his duty
if he did not summon a Protestant
panel. I can easily believe that a
Protestant panel may conduct them-
selves very conscientiously in hanging
the gentlemen of the cruciflx ; but J
blame the law which does not guard
the Catholic against the probable tenor
of those feelings which must uncon-
sciously influence the judgments of
mankind. I detest that state of society
which extends unequal degrees of pro-
tection to different creeds and per-
suasions ; and I cannot describe to
you the contempt I feel for a man who,
calling himself a statesman, defends a
system which fills the heart of every
Irishman with treason, and makes his
allegiance prudence, not choice.

I request to know if the vestry
taxes in Ireland are a mere matter of

170

FETEB FLYMLET^ LETTERS.

romaiitic feeling, which can affect onlj
theEariofFin^? InaparishiHiere
there are four thoosand Catholics and
fifty IVotestants, the Protestants maj
meet together in a vestiy meeting, at
which no Catholic has the right to
vote, and tax all the lands in the
parish Is. 6d. per acre, or in the
pound, I forget which, for the repairs
of the church — and how has the ne-
cessity of these repairs heen ascertain-
ed ? A Protestant plumber has dis-
coyered that it wants new leading ; a
Protestant carpenter is convinced the
timbers are not sound, and the glaziei^
who hates holy water (as an accoucheur
hates celibacy because he gets nothing
by it) is employed to put in new sashes.
The grand juries in Ireland are the
great scene of jobbing. They have a
power of making a county rate to a
considerable extent for roads, bridges,
and other objects of general accom-
modation. ** You suffer the road to be
brought through my park, and I will
have the bridge constructed in a situ-
ation where it will make a beautiful
object to your bouse. You do my job,
and I will do yours.** These are the
sweet and interesting subjects which
occasionally occupy Milesian gentle-
men while they are attendant upon this
grand inquest of justice. But there is
a religion, it seems, even in jobs ; and
it will be highly gratifying to Mr.
Perceval to learn that no man in Ireland
who believes in seven sacraments can
carry a public road, or bridge, one
yard out of the direction most benefi-
cial to the public, and that nobpdy can
cheat that public who does not expound
the Scriptures in the purest and most
orthodox manner. This will give
pleasure to Mr. Perceval: but, from
his unfairness upon these topics, I
appeal to the justice and the proper
feelings of Mr. Huskisson. I ask him
if the human mind can experience a
more dreadful sensation than to see its
own jobs refused, and the jobs of
another religion perpetually succeed-
ing ? I ask him his opinion of a job-
less faith, of a creed which dooms a
man through life to a lean and plunder-
less integrity. He knows that human
nature cannot and will not bear it ;

and if we were to paint a political
Tartarus, it would be an endless series
of snug expectations, and cruel disap-
pointments. These are a few of many
dreadfid inconveniences which the
Catholics of all ranks suffer from, the
laws by which they are at present
oppressed. Besides, look at human
nature: — what is the history of all
professions ? Joel is to be brought up
to the bar: has Mrs. Plyndey the
slightest doubt of his being Chancellor?
Do not his two shrivelled aunts live in
the certainty of seeing him in that
situation, and of cutting out with their
own hands his equity habiliments?
And I could name a certain minister
of the Grospel who does not, in the
bottom of his heart, much differ fbom
these opinions. Do you think that
the fathers and mothers of the holy
Catholic Church are not as absurd as
Protestant papas and mammas? The
probability I admit to be, in each par-
ticular case, that the sweet little block-
head will in fact never get a brief; —
but I will venture to say, there is not
a parent from the Giant's Causeway
to Bantry Bay who does not conceive
that his child is the unfortunate victim
of the exclusion, and that nothing
short of positive law could prevent his
own dear pre-eminent Paddy from
rising to the highest honoara of the
State. So with the antay, and parlia-
ment ; in fact, few are excluded ; but
in imagination, all: you keep twenty
or thirty Catholics out, and you lose
the affections of four millions; and,
let me tell you, that recent circum-
stances have by no means tended to
diminish in the minds of men that
hope of elevation beyond their own
rank which is so congenial to our
nature: from pleading for John Roe
to taxing John Ball, from jesting for
Mr. Pitt and writing in the Anti-
Jacobin, to managing the affairs of
Europe — these are leaps which seem
to justify the fondest dreams of mothers
and of aunts.

I do not say that the disabilities to
which the Catholics are exposed amount
to such intolerable grievances, that the
strength and industry of a nation are
overwhelmed by them: the increasing

I*ETEB PLYMLETS LETTEpS.

prosperit7 of Ireland fully demonstrates
to the contrary. Bat I repeat again,
what I have often stated in the coarse
of oar correspondence, that your laws
against the Catholics are exactly in
that state in which yon hare neither
the benefits of rigour nor of liberality:
every law which prevented the Catho-
lic from gaining strength and wealth is
repealed; every law which can irritate
remains; if you were determined to
insnlt the Catholics, you should have
kept them weak; if you resolved to
give them strength, you should have
ceased to insult them; — at present
yonr conduct is pure unadulterated
folly.

Lord Hawkesbury says. We heard
nothing about the Catholics till we
began to mitigate the laws against
them ; when we relieved them in part
from this oppression they began to be
disaffected. This is very true ; but it
proves just what I have said, that you
have either done too much, or too
little ; and as there lives not, I hope,
upon earth, so depraved a courtier that
he would load the Catholics with their
ancient chains, what absurdity it is
then not to render their dispositions
friendly, when you leave their arms and
legs free I

You know, and many Englishmen
know, what passes in China ; but no-
body knows or cares what passes in
Ireland. At the beginning of the
present reign, no Catholic could realise
property, or carry on any business;
they were absolutely annihilated, and
had no more agency in the country
than so many trees. They were like
Lord Mulgrave's eloquence and Lord
Camden's wit; the legislative bodies
did not know of their existence. For
these twenty-five years last past, the
Catholics have been engaged in com-
merce ; within that period the com-
merce of Ireland has doubled ; — there
are four Catholics at work for one
Protestant, and eight Catholics at
work for one Episcopalian ; of coarse,
the proportion which Catholic wealth
bears to Protestant wealth is every
year altering rapidly in favour of the
Catholics. I have already told you
what their purchases of land were the

171

last year: since that period, I have
been at some^pains to find out the
acta^ state of the Catholic wealth: it
is impossible, upon such a subject, to
arrive at complete accuracy; but I have
good reason to believe tnat there are
at present 2000 Catholics in Ireland,
possessing an income from 5002. up*
wards, many of these with incomes of
one, two, three and four thousand,
and some amounting to fifteen and
twenty thousand per annum: — and
this is the kingdom, and these the
people, for whose conciliation we are
to wait, Heaven knows when, and
Lord Hawkesbury why I As for me,
I never think of the situation of Ire-
land without feeling the same necessity
for immediate interference as I should
do if I saw blood flowing from a great
artery. I rush towards it with the
instinctive rapidity of a man desirous
of preventing death, and have no other
feeling but that in a few seconds the
patient may be no more.

I could not help smiling in the
times of No Popery, to witness the
loyal indignation of many persons at
the attempt made by the last ministry
to do something for the relief of Ire-
land. • The general cry in the country
was, that they would not see their
beloved Monarch used ill in his old
age, and that they would stand by him
to the last drop of their blood. I re-
spect good feelings, however erroneous
be the occasions on which they display
themselves ; and therefore I saw in all
this as much to admire as to blame.
It was a species of affection, however,
which reminded me very forcibly of
the attachment displayed by the ser-
vants of the Bussian ambassador, at
the beginning of the last century. His
Excellency happened to fall down in
a kind of apoplectic fit, when he was
paying a morning visit in the hoose of
an acquaintance. The confusion was
of course very great, and messengers
were despatched, in every direction, to
find a surgeon ; who, upon his arrival,
declared that his Excellency must be
immediately blooded, and prepared
himself forthwith to perform the oper-
ation: the barbarous servants of the
embassy, who were there in great

178

I^EB PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

numben, no sooner saw the snrgeon
prepared to woond the arm of their
master with a sharp shining instm-
ment,- than thej drew their swords, pat
themselves in an attitude of defence,
and swore in pore Sclavonic, **that
tbej would murder an j man who at-
tempted to do him the slightest injury:
he had been a very go^ master to
them, and they would not desert him
in his misfortunes, or suffer his blood
to be shed while he was off his guard,
and incapable of defending himself.**
By good fortune, the secretary arrived
about this period of the dispute, and
his Excellency, relieved from super-
fluous blood and perilous affection, was,
after much di65calty, restored to life.

There is an argument brought for-
ward with some appearance of plausi-
bility in the House of Conunons, which
certainly merits an answer: You know
that the Catholics now vote for mem-
bers of parliament in Ireland, and that
they outnumber the Protestants in a
very great proportion ; if you allow
Catholics to sit in parliament, religion
will be found to influence votes more
than property, and the greater part of
the 100 Iridh members who are re-
turned to parliament will be Catholics.
— Add to these the Catholic members
who are returned in England, and
you will have a phalanx of heretical
strength which every minister will be
compelled to respect, and occasionally
to conciliate by concessions incom-
patible with the interests of the Pro-
testant Church. The fact is, however,
that you are at this moment subjected
to every danger of this kind which
yon can possibly apprehend hereafter.
If the spiritual interests of the voters
are more powerful than their temporal
interests, they can bind down their
representatives to support any measures
favourable to the Catholic religion, and
they can change the objects of their
choice till they have found Protestant
members (as they easily may do) per-
fectly obedient to their wishes. If
the superior possessions of the Pro-
testants prevent the Catholics from
uniting for a common politick object,
then the danger you fear cannot exist:
if zeal, on the contrary, gets the better

of acres, then the danger at present
exists, from the right of voting already
given to the Catholics, and it will not
be increased by allowing them to sit
in parliament. There are, as nearly
as I can recollect, thirty seats in Ire-
land f(Nr cities and counties, where the
Protestants are the most numerous,
and where the members returned must
of course be Protestants. In the other
seventy representations, the wealth of
the IVotestants is opposed to the
number of the Catholics ; and if all
this seventy members returned wero
of the Catholic persuasion, they must
still plot the destruction of our reli^on
in the midst of 588 Protestants. Such
terrors would disgrace a cook-maid,
or a toothless aunt — when they fall
from the lips of bearded and sena-
torial men, they are nauseous, anti-
peristaltic, and emeticaL

How can you for a moment donbt
of the rapid effects which would be
produced by the emancipation ? — In
the first place, to my certain know«
ledge, the Catholics have long since
expressed to his Majesty's ministers
their perfect readiness to vest in his
Majesty, either with the consent of the
Pope, or without it if it cannot be ob-
tained, the nomination of die Catholic pre^
lacy. The Catholic prelacy in Ireland
consists of twenty-six bishops and the
warden of Galway, a dignitary enjoying
Catholic jurisdiction. The number
of Roman Catholic priests in Ireland
exceeds one thousand. The expenses
of his peculiar worship are, to a sub-
stantial farmer or mechanic, five shil-
lings per annum ; to a labourer (where
he is not entirely excused) one shilling
per annum ; this includes the contri-
bution of the whole family, cmd for
this the priest is bound to attend them
when sick, and to confess them when'
they apply to him : he is also to keep
his chapel in order, to celebrate divine
service, and to preach on Sundays and
holydays. In the northern district a
priest gains from 30/. to 50/. ; in the
other parts of Ireland from 60/. to
90/. per ann. The best paid Catholic
bishops receive about 400/. per ann. ;
the others irom 300/. to 350/. My
plan is very simple ; I would have

F£TEB PLTMLEY'S LETTERS.

173

300 Catholic parishes at 100/. per ann.,
300 at 200il per ann., and 400 at
300^ per ann. ; this, for the whole
thoasand parishes, would amoant to
190,0002. To the prelacy I would
allot 20,000/. in nneqaal proportions,
from lOOOiL to 500/. ; and I would ap-
propriate 40,000/. more for the support
of Catholic schools, and the repairs of
Catholic churches ; the whole amount
of which sum is 250,000/., ahout the
expense of three days of one of our
genuine, good, English, just and ne-
cesmry wars. The clergy should all
receive their salaries at the Bank of
Ireland, and I would place the whole
patronage in the hands of the Crown.
Now, I appeal to any human heing,
except Spencer Perceval, Esq., of the
parish of Hampstead, what the dis-
afiection of a clergy would amount to,
gaping after this graduated bounty
of the Crown, and whether Ignatius
Loyola himself, if he were a living
blockhead, instead of a dead saint,
could withstand the temptation of
boancing from 100/^ a year at Sligo,
to 300/. in Tipperary? This is the
miserable sum of money for which
the merchants, and landowners, and
nobility of England are exposing them-
selves to the tremendous peril of losing
Ireland, The sinecure places of the
Roses and the Percevals, and the " dear
and near relations,'* put up to auction
at thirty years' purchase, would almost
amount to the money.

I admit that nothing can be more
reasonable than to expect that a Catho-
lic priest should, starve to death, gen-
teelly and pleasantly, for the good of
the Protestant religion; but is it
equally reasonable to expect that he
shoold do so for the Protestant pews,
and Protestant brick and mortar ? On
an Irish Sabbath, the bell of a neat
parish church often summons to church
only the parson and an occasionally
conforming clerk ; while, two hundred
yards off, a thousand Catholics are
huddled together in a miserable hovel,
and pelted by all the storms of heaven.
Can anything be more distressing than
to see a venerable man pouring forth
sublime truths in tattered breeches,
and depending for his food upon the

little offal he gets from his parish-
ioners? I venerate a human being
who starves for his principles, let them
be what they may; but starving for
anything is not at all to the taste of
the honourable flagellants: strict prin-
ciples, and good pay, is the motto of
Wr. Percev^: the one he keeps in great
measure for the faults of his enemies,
the'other for himself.

There are parishes in Connaught in
which a Protestant was never settled,
nor even seen: in that province, in
Munster, and in parts of Leinster, the
entire peasantry for sixty miles are
Catholics ; in these tracts the churches
are frequently shut for want of a con-
gregation, or opened to an assemblage
of from six to twenty persons. Of
what Protestants there are in Lrelandt
the greatest part are gathered together
in Ulster, or they live in towns. In
the country of the other three pro-
vinces the Catholics see no other re-
ligion but their own, and are at the
least as fifteen to one Protestant. In
the diocese of Tuam they are sixty
to one; in the parish of St. Mullins,
diocese of Leghlin, there are four
thousand Catholics and one Protestant;
in the town of Grasgenamana, in the
county of ELilkenny, there are between
four and five hundred Catholic houses,
and three Protestant houses. In the
parish of Allen, county Elildare, there
is no Protestant, though it is very po-
pulous. In the parish of Arlesin,
Queen's County, the proportion is one
hundred to one. In the whole county
of Kilkenny, by actual enumeration, it
is seventeen to one ; in the diocese of
Kilmacduagh, province of Connaught,
fifty-two to one, by ditto. These I
give yon as a few specimens of the
present state of Ireland ; — and yet
there are men impudent and ignorant
enough to contend that such evils re-
quire no remedy, and that mild family
man who dwelleth in Hampstead can
find none but the cautery and the
knife.

omne per ignem

Exootjultur vitium.

I cannot describe the horror and
disgust which I felt at hearing Mr.

174

FETEB FLYMLET'S LETTEB&

Perceval call upon the then ministry
for meaanres of vigonr in Ireland. If
I lived at Hampiiead npon stewed
meats and claret; if I walked to chnrch
every Sunday before eleven young gen-
tlemen of my own begetting, with their
facet washed, and their hair pleasingly
combed: if the Almighty had blessed
me with every earthly comfort — how
awfhlly wonld I pause before I sent
forth the flame and the sword over the
cabins of the poor, brave, generous,
open-hearted peasants of IreUnd I How
easy it is to shed human blood — how
easy it is to persuade ourselves that it
is our duty to do so — and that the de-
cision has cost us a severe struggle^ —
how much in all ages have wounds
and shrieks and tears been the cheap
and vulgar resources of the rulers of
mankind — how difficult and how noble
it is to govern in kindness and to found
an empire upon the everlasting basis
of justice and affection ! — ^But what do
men call vigour ? To let loose hussars
and to bring up artillery, to govern
with lighted matches, and to cut, and
push, and prime— I call this, not vigour,
but the shth of crudty and ignorance.
The vigonr i love consists in finding
out wherein subjects are aggrieved, in
relieving them, in studying die temper
and genius of a people, in consulting
their prejudices, in selecting proper
persons to lead and manage them, in
the laborious, watchitil, and difficult
task of increasing public happiness by
allaying each particular discontent.
In this way Hoche pacified La Vendee
— and in this way only will Ireland
ever be subdued. But this, in the eyes
Of Mr. Perceval, is imbecility and
meanness : houses are not broken open
—women are not insulted — the people
seem all to be happy ; they are not
rode over by horses, and cut by whips.
Do yon call this vigour? — Is this
government ? s

LETTER X. AND LAST.

You must observe that all I have said
of the effects which will be produced
by giving salaries to the Catholic
Clergy, only proceeds upon the suppo-

sition that the emancipation of the
laity is effected : — without that, I am
sure there is not a clergyman in Ire-
land who would receive a shilling from
government ; he could not do .so,
without an entire loss of credit among
the members of his own persnasioo.

What you say of the moderation of
the Irish Protestant Clergy in collect-
ing tithes, is, I believe, strictly tme.
Instead of collecting what the law
enables them to collect, I believe they
seldom or ever collect more than two
thirds ; and I entirely agree with yon,
that the abolition of agistment tithe in
Ireland by a vote of the Irish House
of Commons, and without any remu-
neration to the Church, was a most
scandalous and Jacobinical measure.
I do not blame the Irish clergy ; but I
submit to your conmion sense, if it be
possible to explain to an Irish peasant
upon what principle of justice, or com-
mon sense, he is to pay every tenth
potato in his little garden to a clergy-
man in whose religion nobody believes
for twenty miles around him, and who
has nothing to preach to but bare walls.
It is true, if the tithes are bought up,
the cottager must pay more rent to his
landlord ; but the same thing done in
the shape of rent, is less odious than
when it is done in the shape of tithe.
I do not want to take a shilling out of
the pockets of the clergy, but to leave
the substance of things, and to change
their names. I cannot see the slightest
reason why the Irish labourer is to be
relieved fh)m the real onus, or from
anything else but the name of tithe.
At present he rents only nine tenths of
the produce of the land ; which is all
that belongs to the owner ; this he has
at the market price ; if the landowner
purchase the other tenth of the Church,
of course he has a right to make a cor-
respondent advance upon his tenant.

I very much doubt, if you were to
lay open all civil offices to the Catholics,
and to grant salaries to their clergy,
in the manner I have stated, if the
Catholic laity would give themselves
much trouble about Uie advance of
their Church; for they would pay the
same tithes under one system that they
do nnder another. If yon were to

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

175

bring the Catholics into the daylight of
the world, to the high sitaations of the
armj, the navj, and the bar, nambers
of them would come OTer to the Estab-
lished Church, and do as other people
do; instead of that, jou set a mark of
iflfam J upon them, rouse every passion
of our nature in favour of their creed,
and then wonder that men are blind to
the foUies of the Catholic religion.
There are hardly any instances of old
and rich families among the Protestant
Dissenters : when a man keeps a coach,
and lives in good company, he comes
to church, and gets ashamed of the
meeting-house; if this is not the case
with the father, it is almost always the
case with the son. These things would
never be so, if the Dissenters were in
practice as much excluded from all the
concerns of civil life, as the Catholic^
iu*e. If a rich young Catholic were in
parliament, he would belong to White's
and to Brookes's, would keep race-
horses, would walk up and down Pall
Mall, be exonerated of his ready money
and his constitution, become as totally
devoid of morality, honesty, knowledge,
and civility as rrotestant loungers in
Pall Mall, and return home with a
sapreme contempt for Father O'Leary
and Father O'Callaghan. I am as-
tonished at the madness of the Ca^
tholic clei^, in not perceiving that
Catholic emancipation is Catholic in-
fidelity; that to entangle their people
in the intrigues of a l^otestant parlia-
ment, and a Protestant Court, is to
insure the less of every man of fashion
and consequence in their community.
The true receipt for preserving their
religion, is Mr. Perceval's receipt for
destroying it; it is to deprive every
rich Catholic of all the objects of se-
cular ambition, to separate him from
the Protestant, and to shut him up in
his castle with priests and relics.

We are told, in answer to all our
arguments, that this is not a fit period, —
that a period of universal war is not
the proper time for dangerous innova-
tions in the constitution : this is as
much as to say, that the worst time for
makmg friends is the period when you
have made many enemies; that it is
the greatest of all errors to • stop

when you are breathless, and to lie
down when you are fatigued. Of one
thing I am quite certain : if the safety
of Europe is once completely restored,
the Catholics may for ever bid adieu to
the slightest probability of effecting
their object. Such men as hang about
a court not only are deaf to the sugges-
tions of mere justice, but they despise
justice ; they detest the word right ;
the only word which rouses them is
perd ; where they can oppress with im-
punity, they oppress for ever, and call
it loyalty and wisdom*

lam so far from conceiving the legiti-
mate strength of the Crown would be
diminished by those abolitions of civil
incapacities inconsequence of religious
opinions, that my only objection to the
increase of religious freedom is, that it
would operate as a diminution of po-
litical freedom : the power of the Crown
is so overbearing at this period, that
almost the only steady opposers of its
fatal influence are men disgusted by
religious intolerance. Our establish-
ments are so enormous, and so utterly
disproportioned to our population, that
every second or third man you meet in
society gains something from the pub-
lic ; my brother the commissioner, —
my nephew the police justice, — pur-
veyor of small bKBcr to the army in
Ireland, — clerk of the mouth,— yeoman
to the left hand, — these are the ob-
stacles which common sense and justice
have now to overcome. Add to this,
that the King, old and infirm, excites
a principle of very amiable generosity
in his favour; that he has led a good,
moral, and religious life, equally re«
moved from profligacy and methodis-*
tical hypocrisy; that he has been a
good husband, a good father, and a
good master; that he dresses plain,
loves hunting and farming, hates the
French, and is, in all his opinions and
habits, quite English: — these feelings
are heightened by the present situation
of the world, and the yet unexploded
clamour of Jacobinism. In short, from
the various sources of interest, personal
regard, and national taste, such a tem-
pest of loyalty has set in upon the
people that the 47th proposition in
Euclid might now be voted down with

176

PETER PLYMLET'S LETTEB&

as mach e«M as anj proposition in
politics; and therefore if Lord Hawkes-
bury hates the abstract troths of science
as much as he hates concrete tmth in
human affairs, now is his time for get-
ting rid of the multiplication table, and
passing a TOte of censure upon the
pretensions of the hfpolkeMMMe, Such
is the history of English parties at this
moment: jon cannot seriously suppose
that the people care for such men as
Lord Hawkesbuiy, Mr. Canning, and
Mr. Perceval, on their own account;
yon cannot really believe them to be
so degraded as to look to their safety
from a man who proposes to subdue
Europe by keeping it without Jesuits*
Bark. The people, at present, have one
passion, and but one~-

A Jove prindpium, Jovis omnia plena. •

They care no more for the ministers I
have mentioned, than they do for those
sturdy royalists who for 602. per annum
stand behind his Majesty's carriage,
arrayed in scariet and gold. If the
present ministers opposed the Court
instead of flattering it, they would not
command twenty votes.

I>o not imagine by these observa-
tions that I am not loyal: without
joining in the common cant of the best
of kings, I respect the Eling most sin-
cerely as a good man. His' reUgion
is better than the religion of Mr.
Perceval, his old morality very superior
to the old morality of Mr. Canning,
and I am quite certain he has a safer
understanding than both of them put
together. lovalty within the bounds
of reason and moderation, is one of the
greatest instruments of English happi-
ness ; but the love of the King may
easily become more strong than the
love of the kingdom, and we may lose
sight of the public welfare in our ex-
aggerated admiration of him who is
appointed to reign only for its promo-
tion and support. I detest Jacobin-
ism; and if I am doomed to be a slave
at all, I would rather be the slave of
a king than a cobbler. God save the
King, you say, warms your heart like
the sound of a trumpet. I cannot
make use of so violent a metaphor; but
1 am delighted to hear it» when it is the

cry of genuine affection; I am delighted
to hear it, when they hail not only the
individual man, but the outward and
living sign of all Eo^ish blessings.
These are noble feelings, and the heart
of every good man must go with them;
but Grod save the King, in these times,
too often means Grod save my pension
and my place, God give my sisters an
allowance out of the privy purse, —
make me clerk of the irons, let ine spr-
vey the meltings, let me live upon the
fruits of other men*s industry, and
fatten upon the plunder of the public

What is it possible to say to such a
man as the Gentleman of Hampstead,
who really believes it feasible to convert
the font million Lrish Catholics to the
Protestant religion, and considers this
as the best remedy for the disturbed
state of Ireland ? It is not possible to
answer such a man with arguments;
we must come out against him vrith
beads, and a cowl, and push him into
an hermitage. It is really such trash,
that it is an abuse of the privilege of
reasoning to reply to it. Such a pro-
ject is well WQrthy the statesman who
would bring the French to reason by
keeping them without rhubarb, and
exhibit to mankind the awful spectacle
of a nation deprived of neutral salts.
This is not the dream of a wild apo-
thecary indulging in his own opium;
this is not tlie distempered fancy of a
pounder of drugs, delirious from small-
ness of profits: but it is the sober, de-
liberate, and systematic scheme of a
man to whom the public safety is en-
trusted, and whose appointment is
considered by many as a masterpiece
of political sagacity. What a sublime
thought, that no purge can now be taken
between the Weser and the Garonne;
that the bustling pestle is still, the ca-
norous mortar mute, and the bowels
of mankind locked up for fourteen de-
grees of latitude! When, I should be
curious to know, were all the powers
of crudity and flatulence fully ex-
plained to his Majesty's ministers? At
what period was this great plan of con-
quest and constipation fully developed?
In whose mind was the idea of destroy-
ing the pride and the plasters of Prance
first engendered? Without castor oil

:Peteb plymley's letters.

they might, for some months, to be
sore, have carried on a lingering war ;
but can thej do without bark ? Will
the people live under a goTemment
where antimonial powders cannot be
procured ? Will they bear the loss of
mercury? "There's the rub." Depend
upon it, the absence of the materia me-
dica will 'soon bring them to their
senses, and the cry of Bourbon and
bolus burst forth from the Baltic to the
Mediterraoean.

You ask me for any precedent in
our history where the oath of supremacy
has been dispensed with. It was dis-
pensed with to the Catholics of Canada
in 1774. They are only required to
take a simple oath of allegiance. The
same, I believe, was the case in Cor-
sica. The reason of such exemption
was obvious ; jon could not possibly
have retained either of these coantries
without it. And what did it signify,
whether you retained them or not ? In
cases where you might have, been
foolish without peril, you were wise ;
when nonsense and bigotry threaten
you with destruction, it i» impossible
to bring you back to the alphabet of
justice and common sense. If men are
to be fools, I would rather they were
fools in little matters than in great ;
dnlness turned up with temerity, is a
livery all the worse for the facings ;
and tjie most tremendous of all things
is the magnanimity of a dunce.

It is not by any means necessary, as
you contend, to repeal the Test Act if
you give relief to the Catholic ; what
the Catholics ask for is to be put on a
footing with the Protestant Dissenters,
which would be done by repealing that
part of the law which compels them to
take the oath of supremacy and to
make the declaration against transub-
stantiation : they would then come into
parliament as all other Dissenters are
allowed to do, and the penal laws to
which they were exposed for taking
office would be suspended every year,
as they have been for this half century
past towards Protestant Dissenters.
Perhaps, after all, this is the best me-
thod,-~to continue the persecuting law,
and to suspend it every year, — a me-

VouH.

177

thod which, while it effectually destroys
the persecution itself, leaves to the
great mass of mankind the exquisite
gratification of supposing that they are
enjoying some advantage from which
a particular class of their fellow-crea-
tures are excluded. We manage the
Corporation and Test Acts at present
much in the same manner as if we
were to persuade parish boys who had
been in the habit of beating an ass to
spare the animal, and beat the skin of
an ass stuffed with straw; this would
preserve the semblance of tormenting
without the reality, and keep boy and
beast in good humour.

How can you imagine that a provi-
sion for the Catholic clergy affects the
5 th article of the Union ? Surely I
am preserving the Protestant Church
in Ireland, if I put it in a better con-
dition than that in which it now is. A
tithe proctor in Ireland collects his
tithes with a blunderbuss, and carries
his tenth hay-cock by storm, sword in
hand: to give him equal value in a
more pacific shape cannot, I should
imagine, be considered as injurious to
the Church of Ireland ; and what right
has that Church to complain, if parlia-
ment chooses to fix upon the empire
the burthen of supporting a double
ecclesiastical establishment ? Are the
revenues of the Irish Protestant clergy
in the slightest degree injured by such
provision ? On the contrary, is it
possible to confer a more serious bene-
fit upon that Church, than by quieting
and contenting those who are at work
for its destruction ?

It is impossible to think of the affairs
of Ireland without being forcibly struck
with the parallel of Hungary. Of her
seven millions of inhabitants, one half
were Protestants, Calvinists, and Lu-
therans, many of the Greek Church,
and many Jews ; such was the state of
theur religious dissensions, that Maho-
met had often been called in to the aid
of Calvin, and the crescent often glit-
tered on the walls of Buda and of
Presburg. At last, in 1791, duruig
the most violent crisis of distarbance,
a. diet was called, and by a great ma-
jority of voices a decree was passed.

178

PETER FLTMLET9 LETTEB&

wbifch ieemed to all the contendiDg
sects the follest u^ freest exercise of
idigums wonhip and edncatkm; or-
dained (let it be heard in Hampstead)
that churches and chapels shoold be
erected for all on the most perfectly
equal terms; that the Protettants of
both confessions shoold depend npon
their spiritoal saperiors alone; libera-
ted them from swearing by the nsoal
oath, ^'the holy Virgin Mary, the
saints, and chosen of God ; " and
then the decree adds, ** that pmbSc
offices and hfmourt, high cr hw, great
or tmaUj ehaU be given to natural-bom
HvngarioMs who deserve weR of their
country, and possess the oAer qnalifiea-
Uons, let their religion be what it may^
Such was the line of policy porsaed in
a diet consisting of fonr hundred mem-
bers, in a state whose form of gOTem-
ment approaches nearer to oar own
than any other, having a Boman Ca-
tholic establishment of great wealth
and power, and nnder the influence of
one of the most bigoted Catholic Courts
in Europe. This measure has now the
experience of eighteen years in its
fiivour; it has undergone a trial of
fourteen years of reTolution such as
the world never witnessed, and more
than equal to a century less convulsed:
What have been its effects? When
the French advanced like a torrent
within a few days' march of Vienna,
the Hungarians rose in a mass ; they
formed what they called t^e sacred
insurrection, to defend their sovereign,
their rights, and liberties, now common
to all ; and the apprehension of their
approach dictated to the reluctant
Bonaparte the immediate signature of
the treaty of Leoben, The Bomi^
hierarchy of Hungary exists in all
its former splendour and opulence;
never has the slightest attempt been
made to diminish it ; and those revo-
lutionary principles, to which so large
a portion of civilised Europe has been
sacrificed, have here failed in making
the smallest successful inroad.

The whole history of this proceeding
of the Hungahan Diet is so extraor-
dinary, and such an admirable com-
ment upon the Protestantism of Mr.
Spencer Perceval, that I must compel

yoa to read a few short extracts frvmi
the law itself :— "The Brotestants of
both confessions shall, in religions
matten^ dqwnd opon their own spirit-
nal saperiors alcme. The Protestants
may Iflcewise retain their trivial and
grammar schools. The Church dues
which the Pkotestants have hitherto
paid to the Catholic parish priests,
schoolmasters, or other such officers,
either in money, productions, or iaboar
shaU in future entirely cease, and
after Aree months from the pablishing
of this law, be no more anywhere de-
manded. In the building or repairing
of churches, parsonage-booses, and
schools, the Protestants are not obliged
to assist the Catholics with labour, nor
the Catholics the Protestants. The
I»ous foundations and donations of the
Protestants which already exist, or
which in fritore may be made for tfieir
churches, ministers, schools and stu-
dents, hospitaIs,orphan-houses and poor,
cannot be taken from them under any
pretext, nor yet the care of them ; bat
rather the unimpeded administraticm
shall be entrusted to those from among
them to whom it legally belongs, and
those foundations wMch may have been
taken from them under the last goTcm-
ment, shall be returned to them without
delay. All affaurs of marriage of the
Protestants are left to their own con-
sistories ; all landlords and masters of
families, under the penalty of public
persecution, are ordered not to prevent
their subjects and servants, whether
they be Catholic or Protestant, from.
the observance of the festivals 4ind
ceremonies of their religion," &c &c
&c — By what strange chances are
mankind influenced ! A little Catholic
barrister of Vienna might have raised
the cry of iVb Protestantism, and Hun-
gary would have panted for the arrival
of a French army as much as Ireland
does at this moment; arms would have
been searched fdr ; Lutheran and Cal-
vinist houses entered in the dead of the
night; and the strength of Austria
exhausted in guarding a country from
which, under the present liberal sys-
tem, she may expect, in a moment of
danger, the most poweriul aid: and
let it be remembered, that this memo*

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

179

rable example of political wisdom took
place at a period when many great
monarchies were yet unconqnered in
Europe ; in a country where the two
religious parties were equal in number;
and where it is impossible to suppose
indifference in 'the party which relin-
qoished its exclusive privileges. Under
all these circumstances, the measure
was carried in the Hungarian Diet by
a majority of 280 to 120. In a few
weelts, we shall see every concession
denied to the Catholics by a much
larger majority of Protestants, at a
moment when every other power is
snbJQgated but ourselves, and in a
conntiy where the oppressed are four
times as numerous as their oppressors.
So much for the wisdom of our ances-
tors— so much for the nineteenth cen-
tmy^so much for the superiority of
the English over all the nations of the
Continent

Ate you not sensible, let me ask
yon, of the absurdity of trusting the
lowest Catholics with offices corres-
pondent to their situation in life, and
of denying such privilege to the higher?
A Catholic may serve in the militia,
bat a Catholic cannot come into Parr
liament ; in the latter case you suspect
combination, and in the former case
you suspect no combination ; you de-
liberately arm ten or twenty thousand
of the lowest of the Catholic people; —
and the moment you come to a class of
men whose education, honour, and
talents, seem to render all mischief
less probable, then you see the danger
of employing a Catholic, and cling to
jour investigating tests and disabling
law& If you tell me you have enough
of members of Parliament, and not
enough of militia, without the Catho-
lics, I beg leave to remind you, that,
by employing the physical force of
any sect, at the same time when you
leave them in a state of utter dis-
affection, you are not adding strength
to your armies, but weakness and
ruin. — If you want the vigour of their
common people, you must not disgrace
their nobility, and insult their priest-
hood.

I thought that the terror of the Pope
had been confined to the limits of the

nursery, and merely employed as a
qieans to induce young master to enter
into his small-clothes with greater
speed, and to eat his breakfast with
greater attention to decorum. For
these purposes, the name of the Pope
is admirable; but why push it beyond?
Why not leave to Lord Hawkesbury
all further enumeration of the Pope's
powers ? For a whole century, you
have been exposed to the enmity of
France, and your succession was dis-
puted in two rebellions^; what could
the Pope do at the period when there
was a serious struggle, whether Eng-
land should be Protestant or Catholic,
and when the issue was completely
doubtful? Could the Pope induce the
Irish to rise in 1715? Could he induce
them to rise in 1745? You had no
Catholic enemy when half this island
was in arms ; and what did the Pope
attempt in the last rebellion in Ireland?
But if he had as much power over the
minds of the Irish as Mr. Wilberforce
has over the mind of a young Me-
thodist converted the preceding quar-
ter, is this a reason why we are to
disgust men, who may be acted upon
in such a manner by a foreign power ?
or is it not an additional reason why
we should raise up every barrier of
affection and kindness against the mis-
chief of foreign influence? But the
true answer is, the mischief does not
exist Gog and Magog have produced
as much influence upon human affairs
as the Pope has done for this half cen-
tury past ; and by spoiling him of his
possessions, and degrading him in the
eyes of all Europe, Bonaparte has not
taken quite the proper method of in-
creasing his influence.

But why not a Catholic king, as well
as a Catholic member of Parliament,
or of the Cabinet ? — Because it is pro-
bable that the one would be mischievous,
and the other not A Catholic king
might struggle against the Protestant-
ism of the country, and if the struggle
were not successful, it would at least
be dangerous ; but the efforts of any
other Catholic would be quite insigni-
ficant, and his hope of success so small,
that it is quite improbable the effort
would ever be made : my argument is,

N 2

180

PETEE PLYMLEyS LETTERS.

that in so Protestant a countxy as
Great Britain, the character of her
parliaments and her cabinet coald not
be changed bj the few Catholics who
would ever find their waj to the one
or the other. But the power of the
Crown is immeasurably greater than
the power which the CaSiolics could
obtain from any other species of
authority in the state ; and it does not
follow, becanse the lesser degree of
power is innocent, that the greater
should be so toa As for the stress
you lay upon the danger of a Catholic
chancellor, I have not the least hesitar
tion in saying, that his appointment
would not do a ten thousandth part of
the mischief to the English Church
that might be done by a Methodistical
chancellor of the true Clapham breed;
and I request to know, if it is really so
Tery necessary that a chancellor .should
be of the religion of the Church of
England, how many chancellors you
have had within thQ last century who
have been bred up in the Presbyterian
reli^on ? — And again, how many you
have had who notoriously have been
without any religion at all ?

Why are you to suppose that eligi-
bility and election are the same thing,
and that all the cabinet wili be Catho-
lics whenever all the cabinet may be
Catholics? You have a right, you say,
to suppose an extreme case, and to
argue upon it — so have I : and I will
suppose that the hundred Irish mem-
bers will one day come down in a
body, and pass a law compelling the
King to reside in Dublin. I will sup-
pose that the Scotch members, by a
similar stratagem, will lay England
under a large contribution of roeid and
sulphur : no measure is without objec«
tion, if yon sweep the whole horizon
for danger ; it is not sufficient to tell
me of what may happen, bat you must
show me a rational probability that it
will happen : after all, I might, con-
trary to my real opinion, admit all
your dangers to exist; it is enough for
me to contend, that all other dangers
taken together are not equal to the
danger of losing Ireland from disaffec-
tion sLnd invasion.

I am astonished to see yon, and

many good and well-meaning dergy-
men b^de you, painting the Catholics
in such detestable colours; two thirds,
at least, of Europe are Catholics,— they
are Christians, though mistaken Chris*
tians ; how can I possibly admit that
any sect of Christians, and above all,
that the oldest and the most nnmeroas
sect of Christians, are incapable of ful-
filling the common duties and relations
of life : though I do differ from them
in many particulars, God forbid I
should give such a handle to infidelity,
and subscribe to such blasphemy
against our common religion!

Do you think mankind never change
their opinions without formally ex-
pressing and confessing that change ?
When you quote the decisions of an-
cient Catholic councils, are you pre-
pared to defend all the decrees of
English couTOcations and universities
since the reign of Queen Elizabeth ? I
could soon make you sick of yoor nn-
candid industry against the Catholics,
and bring you to fdlow that it is better
to forget times past, and to judge and
be judged by present opinions and
present practice.

I must beg- to be excused from ex-
plaining and refuting all the mistakes
about the Catholics made by my Lord
Bedesdale ; and I must do that noble-
man the justice to say, that he has been
treated with great disrespect Could
anything be more indecent than to
make it a rooming lounge in Dublin
to call upon his Lordship, and to cram
him with Arabian-night stories about
the Catholics? Is this proper beha-
viour to the representatiye of Majesty,
the child of Themis, and the keeper of
the conscience in West Britain? Who-
ever reads the Letters of the Catholic
Bishops, in the Appendix to Sir John
Hippesly*s Tery sensible book, will see
to what an excess this practice must
have been carried with the pleasing
and Protestant nobleman whose name
I have mentioned, and from thence
I wish you to receive your answer
about excommunication, and all the
trash which is talked against the
Catholics.

A sort of notion has, by some means
or another, crept into the world, that

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

181

difference of religion would render
men nnfit to perform together the
offices of common and civil life : that
Brother Wood and Brother Grose
could not trayel together the same
circnit if thej differed in creed, nor
Cockell and Mingay be engaged in
the same cause if Cockell was a Ca-
tholic and Mingay a Mnggletonian.
It is supposed that Huskisson and Sir
Harry Englefield would squabble be-
hind the Speaker's chair about the
Council of Lateran, and many a turn-
pike bill miscarry by the sarcastical
controversies of ^r. Hawkins Brown
and Sir John Throckmorton upon the
real presence. I wish I could see some
of these symptoms of earnestness upon
the subject of religion ; but it really
seems to me that, in the present state
of society, men no more think about
inquiring concerning each other's faith
than they do concerning the colour of
each other's skins. There may have
been times in England when the quar-
ter sessions would have been disturbed
by theological polemics : but now,
alter a Catholic justice had once been
seen on the bench and it had been
clearly ascertained that he spoke Enr-
glish, had no tail, only a single row of
teeth, and that he loved port wine, —
after all the scandalous and infamous
reports of his physical conformation
had, been clearly proved to be false, —
he would be reckoned a jolly fellow,
and very superior in flavour to a sly
Presbyterian. Nothing, in fact, can be
more uncandid and unphilosophic^l *
than to say that a man has a tail,
because you. cannot agree with him
upon religious subjects ; it appears
to be ludicrous : but I am convinced
it has done infinite mischief to the
Catholics, and made a very serious
impression upon the minds of many
gentlemen of large landed property.

In talking of the impossibility of
Catholic and Protestant living together
with equal privilege under the same
government, do you forget the Cantons
of Switzerland? You might have seen
there a Protestant congregation going
into a church which had just been

* Fid0 Lord Bacon, Locke, and Descartes.

quitted by a Catholic congregation ;
and I Mrill venture to say that the Swiss
Catholics were more bigoted to their
religion than any people in the whole
world. Did the kings of Prussia ever
refuse to employ a Catholic ? Would
Frederick the Great have rejected an
able man on this account? We have
seen Prince Czartorinski, a Catholic
secretary of state in Russia ; in former
times, a Greek patriarch and an apos-
tolic vicar acted together in the most
perfect harmony in Venice ; and we
have seen the Emperor of Germany in
modem times entrusting the care of
his person and the command of his
guard to a Protestant Prince, Ferdi-
nand of Wirtemberg. But what are
all these things to Mr. Perceval ? He
has looked at human nature from the
top of Hampstead Hill, and has not a
thought beyond the little sphere of his
own vision. ** The snail," say the
Hindoos, **sees nothing but his own
shell, and thinks it the grandest palace
in the universe."

I now take a final leave of this sub-
ject of Ireland ; the only difficulty in
discussing it is a want of resistance, a
want of something difficult to unravel,
and something dark to illumine. To
agitate such a question is to beat the
air with a club, and cut down gnats
with a scimitar ; it is a prostitution of
industry, and a waste of strength. If
a man say, I have a good place, and I
do not choose to lose it, this mode of
arguing upon the Catholic question I
can well understand ; but that any
human being with an understanding
two degrees elevated above that of an
Anabaptist preacher, should conscien-
tiously contend for the expediency and
propriety of leaving the Irish Catholics
in their present state, and of subjecting
us to such tremendous peril in the pre-
sent condition of the world, it is utterly
out of my power to conceive. Such a
measure as the Catholic question is
entirely beyond the common game of
politics ; it is a measure in which all
parties ought to acquiesce, in order to
preserve the place where and the stake
for which they play. If Ireland is
gone, where are jobs ? where are re-
versions,? where is my brother. Lord

N 3

182

PETER PLYMLETS LETTERS.

Arden ? where are, my dear and near
relations ? The game is up, and the
Speaker of the House of Commons will
be sent as a present to the menagerie
at Paris. We talk of waiting from
particular considerations, as if centuries
of joy and prosperity were before us :
in the next ten years our fate must be
decided; we shall know, long before
that period, wbather we can bear up
against the miseries by which we are
threatened, or not: and yet, in the very
midst of our crisis, we are enjoined to
abstain from the most certain means
of increasing our strength, and adrised
to wait for the remedy till the disease
is remored by death or health. And
now, instead of the plain and manly
policy of increasing unanimity at home,
by equalising rights and privileges,
what is the ignorant, arrogant, and
wicked system which has been pur-
sued ? Such a career of madness and
of folly was, I believe, never run in so
short a period. The vigour of the
ministry is like the vigour of a grave-
^^SS^^* — ^c tomb becomes more ready
and more wide for every effort which
they make. There is nothing which it
is worth while either to take or to re-
tain, and a constant train of ruinous
expeditions have been kept up. Every
Englishman felt proud of the integrity
of his country ; the character of the
country is lost for ever. It is of the
utmost consequence to a commercial
people at war with the greatest part of
Europe, that there should be a free
entry of neutrals into the enemy's ports;
the neutrals who carried our manu-
factures we* have not only excluded,
but we have compelled them to declare
war against us. It was our interest to
make a good peace, or convince our
own people that it could not be ob-
tained ; we have not made a peace,
and we have convinced the people of
nothing but of the arrogance of the
Poreign Secretary : and all this has
taken place in the short space of a
year, because a King's Bench barrister
and a writer of epigrams, turned into
Ministers of State, were determined to
show country gentlemen that the late
administration had no vigour. In the
meantime commerce stands still, manu-

factures perish, Ireland is more and
more irritated, India is threatened,
fresh taxes are accumulated upon the
wretched people, the war is carried oa
without it being possible to conceive
any one single object which a rational
being can propose to himself by its
continuation ; and in the midst of this
unparalleled insanity we are told that
the Continent is to be reconquered by
the want of rhubarb and plums.* A
better spirit than exists in the English
people never existed in any people in
the world ; it has been misdirected,
and squandered upon party purposes
in the most degrading and scandalous
manner ; they have l^en led to believe
that they were benefiting the conunerce
of England by destroying the com-
merce of America, that they were
defending their Sovereign by per-
petuating the bigoted oppression of
their fellow-subjects ; their rulers and
their guides have told them that they
would equal the vigour of France by
equalling her atrocity ; and they have
gone on wasting that opulence, patience,
and courage, which, if husbanded by
prudent and moderate counsels, might
have proved the salvation of mankind.
The same policy of turning the good
qualities of Englishmen to their own
destruction, which made Mr. Pitt om-
nipotent, continues his power to those
who resemble him only in his vices ;
advantage is taken of the loyalty of
Englishmen to make them meanly
submissive ; their piety is turned into
persecution, their courage into useless
and obstinate contention ; they are
plundered because they are ready to
pay, and soothed into asinine stupidity
because they are full of virtuous pa-
tience. If England must perish at
last, so let it be ; ■ that event is in the
hands of God ; we must dry up our
tears and submit But that England
should perish swindling and stealing ;
that it should perish waging war
against lazar houses, and hospitals ;
that it should perish persecuting with

* Even Allen Park (accustomed as he has
always been to be dehghted by all adminis-
trations) says it is too bad; and Hall and
Morris are said to have adniaUy UuiBhed in
one of the divisions.

PETER PLYMLEY^ LETTEBS.

183

monastic bigotry; that it should calmly
give itself up to be mined by the flashy
arrogance of one man, and the narrow
fanaticism of another ; these eyents
are within the power of human beings,

and I did not think that the magnani«
mity of Englishmen would ever stoop
to snch degradations.

LongnrnTilel

Peter Pltmlet.

«4

THE JUDGE THAT SMITES OONTBAEY TO THE LAW.

A SEEMON

PREACHED IN THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OF ST. PETER, YORK

BBFOBB

THE HON. SIB JOHN BAYLEY, KNT.

AND

THE HON. SIB GEOBOE SOWLEY HOLBOYD, KNT.
justicbs of thb coubt of king's bbnch

Uajlcr 28, 1824.

Acts, xxni. 8.
SUtest thou here to judge me qffer the law,
and commandest thou me to he tmUten,
contrary to the law?

With these bold words St. Paul re-
pressed the unjust violence of that
ruler, who would have silenced his
arguments, and extinguished his zeal
for the Christian faith : knowing well
the misfortunes which awaited him,
prepared for deep and various calamity,
not ignorant of the violence of the
Jewish multitude, not unused to suffer,
not unwilling to die,, he had not pre-
pared himself for the monstrous spec-
tacle of perverted Justice ; but losing
that spirit to whose fire and firmness
we owe the very existence of the Chris-
tian faith, he burst into that bold rebuke
which brought back the extravagance
of power under the control of law, and
branded it with the feelings of shame :
" Sittest thou here to judge me after
the law, and commandest thou me to
be smitten, contrary to the law ? "

I would observe that in the Gospels,
and the various parts of the New

Testament, the words of our Saviour
and of St. Paul, when they contain
any opinion, are always to be looked
upon as lessons of wisdom to us, how-
ever incidentally they may have been
delivered, and however shortly they
may have been expressed. As their
words were to be recorded by inspired
writers, and to go down to future ages,
nothing can have been said without
reflection and design. Nothing is to
be lost, everything is to be studied : a
great moral lesson is often conveyed in
a few words. Bead slowly, think
deeply, let every word enter into your
soul, for it was intended for your soul.
I take these words of St. Paul as a
condemnation of that man who smites
contrary to the law ; as a praise of that
man who judges according to the law;
as a religious theme upon the import-
ance of human Justice to the happiness
of mankind : and if it be that theme,
it is appropriate to this place, and to
the solemn public duties of the past
and the ensuing week, over which some
here present will preside, at which

THE JUDGE THAT SMITES CONTRARY TO THE LAW 185

many here present will assist, and
which almost all here present will
witness.

I will discnss, then, the importance
of jadging according to the law, or, in
other words, of the due administration
of Justice upon the character and hap-
piness of nations. And in so doing, I
^yill hegin with stating a few of those
circumstances which may mislead even
good and conscientious men, and sub-
ject them to the unchristian sin of
smiting contrary to the law. I will
state how that Justice is purified and
perfected, by which the happiness and
character of nations iis affected to a
good purpose.

I do this with less fear of being
misunderstood, because I am speaking
before two great magistrates, who have
lived much among its ; and whom —
because they have lived much among
us — we have all learned to respect and
regard, and to whom no man fears to
consider himself as accountable, be*
cause all men see that they, in the
administration of their high office, con-
sider themselves as deeply and daily
accountable to God.

And let no man say, '*Why teach
such things ? Do you think they must
not have occurred to those to whom
they are a concern ?" 1 answer to this
that no man preaches novelties and
discoveries ; the object of preaching is,
constantly to remind mankind of what
mankind are constantly forgetting ;
not to supply the defects of human
intelligence, but to fortify the feebleness
of human resolutions, to recall man-
kind from the by-paths where they
turn, into that broad path of salvation
which all know, but few tread. These
plain lessons the humblest ministers of
the Gospel may teach, if they are
honest, and the most powerful Chris-
tians will ponder, if they are wise. No
man, whether he bear the sword of the
law, or whether he bear that sceptre
which the sword of the law cannot
reach, can answer for his own heart to-
morrow, and can say to the teacher,— r
** Thou wamest me, thou teachest me,
in vain."

A Christian Judge, in a free land,
should, with the most scrupulous exact-

ness, guard himself from the influence
of those party feelings, upon which,
perhaps, the preservation of political
liberty depends, but by which the better
reason of individuals is often blinded
and the tranquillity of the public dis-
turbed. I am not talking of the osten-
tatious display of such feelings ; I am
hardly talking of any gratification of
which the individual himself is con-
scious, but I am raising up a wise and
useful jeidousy of the encroachment
of those feelings, which, when they do
encroach, lessen the value of the most
valuable, and lower the importance of
the most important, men in the country.
I admit it to be extremely difficult to
live amidst the agitations, contests, and
discussions of a free people, and to
remain in that state of cool, passionless
Christian candour, which society expect
from their great magistrates ; but it is
the pledge that magistrate has given,
it is the life he has taken up, it is the
class of qualities which he has promised
us, and for which he has rendered him-
self responsible : it is the same fault
in him which want of courage would
be in some men, and want of moral
regularity in others. It runs counter
to those very purposes, and sins against
those utilities for which the very office
was created : without these qualities,
he who ought to be cool, is heated ; he
who ought to be neutral, is partial: the
ermine of Justice is spotted ; the ba-
lance of Justice is unpoised; the fillet
of Justice is torn off : and he who sits
to judge after the law, smites contrary
to the law.

And if the preservation of calmness
amidst the strong feelings by which a
Judge is surrounded be difficult, is it
not also honourable ? and would it be
honourable if it were not difficult ?
Why do men quit their homes, and give
up their common occupations, and re-
pair to the tribunal of Justice ? Why
this bustle and business, why this de-
coration and display, and why are we
all eager to pay our homage to the dis-
pensers of Justice? Because we all
feel that there must be, somewhere or
other, a check to human passions ; be-
cause we all know the immense value
and importance of men, in whose placid

186

THE JUDGE THAT SMITES

equitj and mediating wisdom, we can
trust in the worst dT times ; because
we cannot cherish too stronglj* and
express too plain!/, that reverence we
feel for men, who can rise np in the
ship of the state, and rebnke the storms
of the mind, and bid its angry passions
be stilL

A Christian Jodge in a free land,
shonld not onlj keep his mind dear
from the violence of party feelings, but
he shonld be very carefnl to preserve
his independence, by seeking no pro-
motion, and asking no favours from
those who govern : or at least, to be
(which is an experiment not without
danger to his salvation) so thoroughly
confident of his motives and his con-
duct, that he is certain the hope of
favour to come, or gratitude for favour
past, will never cause him to swerve
from the strict line of duty. It is often
the lot of a Judge to be placed, not
only between the accuser and the ac-
cused, not only between the complain-
ant and him against whom it is com-
plained, but between the governors and
the governed, between the people and
those whose lawful commands the people
are bound to obey. In these sort of con-
tests it unfortunately happens that the
rulers are sometimes as angry as the
ruled ; the whole ejes of a nation are fixed
upon one man, and upon his character
and conduct the stability and happiness
of the times seem to depend. The best
and firmest magistrates cannot tell how
they may act under such circumstances,
but every man may prepare himself
for acting well under such circum-
stances, by cherishing that qniet feeling
of independence, which removes one
temptation to act ilL Ever/ man may
avoid putting himself in a situation
where his hopes of advantage are on
one side, ahd his sense of duty on the
other : such a temptation may be with-
stood, but it is better it should not be
encountered. Far better that feeling
which says, *^1 have vowed a vow before.
God ; I have put on the robe of justice ;
farewell avarice, farewell ambition :
pass me who will, slight me who will,
I live henceforward only for the great
duties of life : my business is on earth,
my hope and my reward are in God."

He who takes tiie oflSce of a Judge
as it now exists in this country, takes
in his hands a splendid gem, good and
glorious, perfect and pure. ShaU he
give it np mutilated, shall he mar it,
shall he darken it, shall it emit no light,
shall it be valued at no price, shall it
excite no wonder ? Shall he find it a
diamond, shall he leave it a stone ?
What shall we say to the man who
would wilfully destroy with fire the
magnificent temple of God, in which I
am now preaching ? Far worse is he
who ruins the moral edifices of the
world, which time and toil, and many
prayers to God, and many sufierings
of men, have reared ; who puts out
the light of the times in which he lives,
and leaves us to wander amid the dark-
ness of corruption and the desolation
of sin. There may be, there probably
is, in this church, some young man
who may hereafter fill the office of an
English Judge, whm the greater part
of those who hear me are dead, and
mingled with the dust of the grave;
Let him remember my words, and let
them form and fashion his spirit : he
cannot tell in what dangerous and awfal
times he may be pliused ; but as a
mariner looks to his compass in the
calm, and looks to his compass in the
storm, and never keeps his eyes off his
compass, so in every vicissitude of a
judicial life, deciding for the people,
deciding against the people, protecting
the just rights of kings, or restraining
their unlawful ambition, let him ever
cling to that pure, exalted, and Chris-
tian independence, which towers over
the little motives of life ; which no hope
of favour can influence, which no effivt
of power cian control.

A Christian Judge in a free country
should respect, on every occasion, those
popular institutions of Justice, which
were intended for his control, and for
our security ; to see humble men col-
lected accidentally firom the neighboor-
hood, treated with tenderness and
courtesy by supreme magistrates oi
deep learning and practised under-
standing, from whose views they are
perhaps at that moment differing, and
whose directions they do not choose to
follow s to see at Bucb. times every dis-

CONTRARY TO THE LAW.

187

position to warmth restrained, and
es&rj tendency to contenaptaous feeling
kept back ; to witness the submission
of the great and wise, not when it is
extorted hj necessity, bat when it is
practised with willingness and grace,
is a spectacle which is rery grateful to
EngHishmen, which no other country
sees, which, above all things, shows
that a Judge has a pure, gentle, and
Christian heart, and that he never
wishes to smite contrary to the law.

May I add the great importance in a
Judge of courtesy to all men, and that
he should, on all occasions, abstain from
nnnecessarjr bitterness and asperity of
speech ? A Judge always speaks with
impunity, and always speaks ^with
effect. His words should be weighed,
hecanse they entail no evil upon him-
self, and much evil upon others. The
langnage of passion, the language of
sarcasm, the language of satire, is not,
on snch occasions, Christian language:
it is not the language of a Judge.
There is a propriety of rebuke and
condemnation, the justice of which is
felt even by him who suffers under it ;
but when magistrates, under the mask
of Uw, aim at the offender more than
the offence, and are more studious of
inflicting pain, than repressing error or
crime, the office suffers as much as the
Judge : the respect for Justice is les-
sened ; and the school of pure reason
becomes the hated theatre of mis-
chievous passion.

A Christian Judge who means to be
just, must not fear to smite according
to the law ; he must remember that he
beareth not the sword in vain. Under
his protection we live, under his pro-
tection we acquire, under his protection
we enjoy. Without him, no man would
defend his character, no man would
preserve his substance : proper pride,
just gains, valuable exertions, all de-
pend upon his firm wisdom. If he
shrink from the severe duties of his
office, he saps the foundation of social
life, betrays the highest interests of the
world, and sits not to judge according
to the law.

The topics of mercy are the small-
ness of the offence — the infrequency
of the offence. The temptations to the

culprit, the moral weakness of the
culprit, the severity of the law, the
error of the law, the different state of
society, the altered state of feeling, and
above all, the distressing doubt whether
a human being in the lowest abyss of
poverty and ignorance, has not done
injustice to himself, and is not perish-
ing away from the want of knowledge,
the want of fortune, and the want of
friends. All magistrates feel these
things in the early exercise of their
judicial power, but the Christian Judge
always feels them, is always youthful,
always tender when he is going to shed
human blood : retires from the business
of men, communes with his own heart,
ponders on the work of death, and
prays to that Saviour who redeemed
him, that he may not shed the blood of
man in vain.

These, then, are those faults which
expose a man to the danger of smiting
contrary to the law : a Judge must be
dear from the spirit of party, inde-
pendent of all favour, well inclined to
the popular institutions of his country;
firm in applying the rule, merciful in
making the exception ; patient, guard-
ed in his speech, gentle, and courteous
to all. Add' his learning, his labour,
his experience, his probity, his practised
and acute faculties, and this man is the
light of the world, who adorns human
life, and gives security to that life which
he adorns.

Now see the consequence of that
state of Justice which this character
implies, and the explanation of all that
deserved honour we confer on the pre-
servation of such a character, and all
the wise jealousy we feel at the slight-
est injury or deterioration it may ex-
perience.

The most obvious and important
use of this perfect Justice is, that it
makes nations safe : under common
circumstances, the institutions of Jus-
tice seem to have little or no bearing
upon the safety and security of a
country, but in periods of real danger,
when a nation surrounded by foreign
enemies contends not for the boundaries
of empire, but for the very being and
existence of empire ; then it is that
the advantages of just institutions are

188

THE JUDGE THAT SMITES

uiscovered. Every man feels that he
has a coantrj, that he has something
worth preserving, and worth contend-
ing for. Instances are remembered
where the weak prevailed over the
strong : one man recalls to mind when
a just and upright judge protected
him from unlawful violence, gave him
back his vineyard, rebuked his oppres-
sor, restored him to his rights, publish-
ed, condemned and rectified the wrong.
This is what is called country. Equal
rights to unequal possessions, equal
justice to the rich and poor : this is
what men come out to nght for, and to
defend. Such a country has no legal
injuries to remember, no legal murders
to revenge, no legal robbery to redress:
it is strong in its justice : it is then
that the use and object of all this
assemblage of gentlemen and arrange-
ment of Juries, and the deserved
veneration in which we hold the
character of English Judges, is under-
stood in all its bearings, and in its
fullest effects : men die for such things
— they cannot be subdued by foreign
force where such just practices prevail.
The sword of ambition is shivered to
pieces against such a bulwark. Nations
fall where Judges are unjust, because
there is nothing which the multitude
think worth defending ; but nations do
not fall which are treated as we are
treated, but they rise as we have risen,
and they shine as we have shone, and
die as we have died, too much used to
Justice, and too much used to freedom,
to care for that life which is not just
and free. I call you all to witness if
there be any exaggerated picture in
this : the sword is just sheathed, the
flag is just furled, the last sound of the
trumpet has just died away. You all
remember what a spectacle this country
exhibited : one heart, one voice — one
weapon, one purpose. And why ?
Because this country is a country of
the law ; because the Judge is a judge
for the peasant as well as for the
palace ; because every man's happiness
is guarded by fixed rules from tyranny
and caprice. This town, this week,
the business of the few next days,
would explain to any enlightened
European why other nations didiail in

the storms of the world, and why we
did not falL The Christian patience
you may witness, the impartiality of
the judgment-seat, the disrespect of
persons, the disregard of consequences.
These attributes of Justice do not
end with arranging your conflicting
rights, and mine ; they give strength
to the English people ; duration to the
English name ; they turn the animal
courage of this people into moral and
religious courage, and present to the
lowest of manlund plain reasons, and
strong motives why they should resist
aggression from without, and bind
themselves a living rampart round the
land of their birtlu

There is another reason why every
wise man is so scrupulously jealous of
the character of English Justice. It
puts an end to civil dissension. What
other countries obtain by bloody wars,
is here obtained by the decisions of
our own tribunals ; unchristian pas^
sions are laid to rest by these tribunals ;
brothers are brothers again ; the Gospel
resumes its empire, and because all con-
fide in the presiding magistrate, and be*
cause a few plain men are allowed to
decide upon their own conscientious
impression of facts, civil discord, yean
of convulsion, endless crimes, are
spared ; the storm is laid, and those
who came in clamouring for revenge,
go back together in peace from the hall
of judgment to the loom and the
plough, to the senate and the church.

The whole tone and tenour of public
morals is affected by the state of sa-
preme Justice; it extinguishes revenge,
it communicates a spirit of purity and
uprightness to inferior magistrates ; it
makes the great good, by taking away
impunity ; it banishes fraud, obliqaity,
and solicitation, and teaches men that
the law is their right Truth is its
handmaid, freedom is its child, pea^e
is its companion ; safety walks in its
steps, victory follows in its train : it ^
the brightest emanation of the Gospel?
it is the greatest attribute of God ; it is
that centre round which human motives
and passions turn : and Justice, sitting
on high, sees Genius and Power, snd
Wealth and Birth, revolving round her
throne ; and teaches their paths flQ^

CONTRARY TO THE LAW.

189

marks out their orbits, and warns with
ft lond voice, and rules with a strong
arm, and carries order and discipline
into a world, which bat for her would
only be a wild waste of passions.
Look what we are, and what jast laws
haye done for ns : — a land of piety
and charity ; — a land of churches, and
hospitals, and altars; — a nation of
good Samaritans ; — a people of uni-
versal compassion. AH lands, all seas,
have heard we are brave. We have
jast sheathed that sword which de-
fended the world; we have just laid
down that buckler which covered the
nations of the earth. God blesses the
soil with fertility ; Edglish looms la-
bour for every climate. All the waters
of the globe are covered with English
ships. We are softened by fine arts,
civilised by human literature, instructed
by deep science ; and every people, as
they break their feudal chains, look to
the founders and ■ fathers of freedom
for examples which may animate, and
roles which may guide. If ever a na-

tion was happy, if ever a nation was
visibly blessed by God — if ever a na-
tion was honoured abroad, and left at
home under a government (which we
can now conscientiously call a liberal
government) to the full career of
talent, industry, and vigour, we are at
this moment that people — and this is
our happy lot. — First the Gospel has
done it, and then Justice has done it ;
and he who thinks it his duty to labour
that this happy condition of existence
may remain, must guard the piety of
these times, and he must watch over
the spirit of Justice which exists in
these times. First, he must take care
that the altars of G^od are not polluted,
that the Christian faith is retained in
purity and in perfection : and then
turning to human affairs, let him strive
for spotless, incorruptible Justice ; —
praising, honouring, and loving the
just Judge, and abhorring, as the
worst enemy of mankind, him who is
placed there to "judge after the law,
land who smites contrary to the law.**

THE LAWY^B THAT TEMPTED GHBIST.

A SERMON

PBEACHED IN THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OP ST. PETER, YORK

BSrORB

THE HON. SIB JOHN BAYLEY, .KNT.

ONB or HIS MAJBSTY'S JUSTICB8 OW THB COURT OF KIKO't BBNCH

AND

THE HON. SIB JOHN HULLOCK, KNT.

ONB or HIS MAJBSTY'S BARONS OF THB COURT OP BXCHBQUBB

AnausT 1, 1824.

LUCB, X. 25.
And, behold, a certain lawyer stood «tp,
and tempted Him, sayinff, ** Master, tohat
shdUIdotoinheritetemallifef*'

This lawyer, who is thus represented
to have tempted our blessed Saviour,
does not seem to have been very
• mnch in earnest in the question which
he asked: his object does not appear
to have been the acquisition of re^
ligious knowledge, but the display of
human talent He did not say to him-
self, I will now draw near to this august
Being; I will inform myself from the
fountain of truth, and from the very
lips of Christ, I will learn a lesson of
salvation; but it occurred to him, that
in such a gathering together of the
Jews, in such a moment of public
agitation, the opportunity of diisplay
was not to be neglected ; full of that
internal confidence which men of
talents so ready, and so exercised, are
sometimes apt to feel, he approaches
our Saviour with all the apparent
modesty of interrogation, and salut-
ing him with the appellation of Master,

prepares, with all professional acnte-
ness, for his humiliation and defeat.

Talking humanly, and we must talk
humanly, for our Saviour was then
acting a human part, the ex^riment
ended, as all must wish an experiment
to end, where levity and bad faith are
on one side, and piety, simplicity, and
goodness on the other: the objector
was silenced, and one of the brightest
lessons of the Grospel elicited, for the
eternal improvement of mankind.

Still, though we wish the motive for
the question had been .better, we must
not forget the question, and we must
not forget who asked the question, and
we must not forget who answered it,
and what that answer was. The ques-
tion was the wisest and best that ever
came from the month of man; the
man who asked it was the very person
who ought to have asked it ; a man
overwhelmed, probably, with the in-
trigues, the bustle, and business of
life, and thfrefore, most likely to for-
get the interests of another world: the
answerer was our blessed Saviour,

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHBIST.

191

through whose mediation, yov, and I,
and B& of us, hope to live again $ and
the answer, remember, was plain and
practical; not flowery, not metaphy-
sic^ not doctrinal ; bnt it said to the
man of the law. If yon wish to lire
eternally, do yonr duty to God and
man ; live in this world as yoa ooght
to live ; make yourself fit for eternity;
and then, and then only, God will
grant to yon eternal life.

There are, probably, in this church,
many persons of the profession of the
law, who haye often asked before, with
better fiuth than their brother, and who
do now ask this great question, ** What
shall I do to inherit eternal life ?" I
diall, therefore, direct to them some
observations on the particular duties
they owe to society, because I think it
suitable to this particular season, be-
cause it is of much more importance
to tell men how they are to be Chris-
tians in detail, than to exhort them to
be Christians generally; because it is
of the highest utility to avail ourselves
of these occasions, to ^ow to classes
of mankind what those virtues are,
which they have more frequent and
Talnable opportunities of practising,
and what those faults and yices are, to
which they are more particularly ex-
posed.

It falls to the lot of those who are
engaged in the active and arduous
profession of the law to pass their
lives in great cities, amidst severe and
incessant occnpation, requiring all the
faculties, and calling forth, from time
to tune, many of the strongest passions
of our nature. In the midst of all
this, rivals are to be watched, supe-
riors are to be cultivated, connections
cherished ; some portion of life must be
given to society, and some little U) re-
laxation and amusement. When, then,
18 the question to be asked, '* What
shall I do to inherit eternal life?"
what leisure for the altar, what time
for God ? I appeal to the experience
of men engaged in this profession,
whether religious feelings and religious
practices are not, without any specula-
tive disbelief, perpetually sacrificed to
the business of the world ? Are not
the habits of derotion gradually dis-

placed by other habits of solicitude,
hurry, and care, totally incompatible
with habits of devotion ? Is not the
taste for devotion lessened? IM not
the time for devotion abridged ? Are
you not more and more conquered
against your warnings and against
your will ; not, perhaps, without pain
and compunction, by the Mammon of
life ? And what is the cure for this
great evil to which your profession
exposes you? The cure is, to keep
a sacred place in yonr heart, where
Almighty God is enshrined, and where
nothing human can enter ; to say to
the world, "Thus far shalt thou' go,
and no further ;" to remember you are
a lawyer, without forgetting you are a
Christian ; to wish for no more wealth
than ought to be possessed by an in-
heritor of the kingdom of heaven ; to
covet no more honour than is suitable
to a child of God ; boldly and bravely
to set yourself limits, and to show to
others you have limits, and that no
professional eagerness, and no profes-
sional activity, shall ever induce you
to infringe upon the rules and prac-
tices of religion: remember the text;
put the g^eat question really, which
the tempter of Christ only pietended
to put. In the midst of your highest
success, in the most perfect gratifica-
tion of your vanity, in the most ample
increase of your wealth, fall down at
the feet of Jesus, and say, *' Master,
what shall I do to inherit eternal life ? "
The genuine and unaffected piety
of a lawyer is, in one respect, of great
advantage to the general interests of
religion ; inasmuch as to the highest
member of that profession a great share
of the Church patronage is entrusted,
and to him we are accustomed to look
up in the senate for the defence of our
venerable Establishment ; and great
and momentous would be the loss to
this nation, if any one, called to so
high and honourable an office, were
found deficient in this ancient, pious,
and useful zeal for the Established
Church. In talking to men of your
active lives and habits, it is not pos«
sible to anticipate the splendid and
exalted stations for which any one of
yoa may be destined. Fifty years

192

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHRIST.

ago, the person at the head of hu
profession, the greatest lawjer now in
England, perhaps in the world, stood
in this church, on snch occasions as
the present, as ohscnre, as nnknovm,
and as much doubting of his future
prospects as the humblest individual
of &e profession here present If
providence reserve such honours for
any one who may now chance to hear
me, let him remember that there is re-
quired at his hands a zeal for the Es-
tablished Church, but a zeal tempered
by discretion, compatible with Chris-
tian charity, and tolerant of Christian
freedom. All human establishments
are liable to err, and are capable of
improvement: to act as if yon denied
this, to perpetuate any infringement
upon the freedom of other sects, how-
ever vexatious that infringement, and
however safe its removal, is not to
defend an establishment, but to expose
it to unmerited obloquy and reproach.
Never think it necessary to be weak
and childish in the highest concerns of
life: the career of the law opens to you
many great and glorious opportunities
of promoting the Gospel of Christ,
and of doing good to your fellow-
creatures: there is no situation of that
profession in which you can be more
great and more gloriods than when
in the fulness of years, and the ful-
ness of honours, you are found de-
fending that Church which first taught
you to distinguish between good and
evil, and breathed into you the ele-
ments of religious life: but when you
defend that Church, defend it with
enlarged wisdom and with the spirit
of magnanimity ; praise its great ex-
cellences, do not perpetuate its little
defects, be its liberal defender, be its
wise patron, be its real friend. If you
can be great' and bold in human affairs,
do not think it necessary to be narrow
and timid in spiritual concerns : bind
yourself up with the real and import-
ant interests of the Church, and hold
yourself accountable to God for its
safety; but yield up trifles to the altered
state of the world. Fear no diange
which lessens the enemies of that Es-
tablishment, fear no change which in-
creases the activity of that Establish-

ment, fear no change which draws
down upon it the more abundant
prayers and blessings of the homaxi,
race.

Justice is found, experimentally, to
be most effectually promoted by the
opposite efforts of practised and in-
genious men presenting to the selectioa
of an impartial judge the best argu-
ments for the establishment and expla-.
nation of truth. It becomes, then,
under such an arrangement, the de-
cided duty of an advocate to use all
the arguments in his power to defend
the cause he has adopted, and to leave
the effects of those arguments to the
judgment of others. However useful
this practice may be for the promotion
of public justice, it is not without dan-
ger to the individual whose practice
it becomes. It is apt to produce a pro-
fligate indifference to truth in higher
occasions of life, where truth cannot
for a moment be trifled with, much
less callously trampled on, much less
suddenly and totally yielded up to the
basest of human motives. It is aston-
ishing what unworthy and inadequate
notions men are apt to form of the
Christian faith. Christianity does not
insist upon duties to an individual, and
forget the duties which are owing to
the great mass of individuals, which
we call our country ; it does not teach
you how to benefit your neighbour,
and leave you to inflict the most serious
injuries upon all whose interest is
bound up with you in the same land.
I need not say to this congregation
that there is a wrong and a right in
public affairs, as there is a wrong and
a right in private affairs. I need not
prove that in any vote, in any line of
conduct which affects the public in-
terest, every Christian is bound most
solemnly and most religiously, to follow
the dictates of his conscience. liet it
be for, let it be against, let it please,
let it displease, no matter with whom
it sides, or what it thwarts, it is a
solemn duty, on such occasions, to act
from the pure dictates of conscience,
and to be as faithful to the interests of
the great mass of your fellow-creatures,
as you would be to the interests of any
individual of that mass. Why, then.

i

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHRIST.

193

if there be any truth in these observa-
tions, can that man be pure and inno-
cent before God, can he be quite harm-
less and respectable before men, who,
in mature age, at a moment's notice,
sacrifices to wealth and power all the
fixed and firm opinions of his life;
who puts his moral principles to sale,
and barters his dignitj and his soul
for the baubles of the world? If these
temptations come across you, then re-
member the memorable words of the
text, ** What shall I do to inherit eter-
nal life ?" not this — don't do this : it
is no title to eternity to suffer deserved
shame among men : endure anything
rather than the loss of character; cling
to character as your best possession ;
do not envy men who pass you in life,
only because they are under less moral
and religious restraint than yourself.
Your object is not fame, but honour-
able fame : your object is not wealth,
bot wealth worthily obtained: your
object is not power, but power gained
fairly, and exercised virtuously. Long-
saffering is a great and important
lesson in human life; in no part of
human life is it more necessary than in
yovLT arduous profession. The greatest
men it has produced have been at some
period of their professional lives ready
to famt at the long, and apparently
fruitless journey; and if you look at
those lives, you will find they have
been supported by a confidence (under
God) in the general effects of character
and industry. They have withstood
the allurement of pleasure which is the
first and most common c^nseof failure;
they have disdained the little arts and
meannesses which carry base men a
certain way, and no further ; they have
sternly rejectea also the sudden means
of growing basely rich, and dishonour-
ably great, with which every man is at
one time or another sure to be assailed ;
and then they have broken out into
light and glory at the last, exhibiting
to mankind the splendid spectacle of
great talents long exercised by difficul-
ties, and high principles never tainted
with guilt.

After all, remember that your pro-
fession is a lottery in which you may
aa well aa win; and you most

VoL.IL

take it as a lottery, in which, afler
every effort of your own, it is impos-
sible to command success: for this you
are not accountable ; but you are
accountable for your purity ; you are
accountable for the preservation of
your character. It is not in every
man's power to say, I will be a great
and successful lawyer ; but it is in
every man's power to say, that he will
(with God*s assistance) be a good
Christian and an honest man. What-
ever is moral and religious is in your
own power. If fortune deserts you,
do not desert yourself ; do nqt under-
value inward consolation ; connect
God with your labour ; remember you
are Christ's servant ; be seeking always
for the inheritance of immortal life.

I must urge you by another motive,
and bind you by another obligation,
against the sacrifice of public princi-
ple. A proud man when he has ob-
tained the reward, and accepted the
wages of baseness, enters into a severe
account with himself, and feels clearly
that he has suffered degradation : he
may hide it by increased zeal and vio-
lence, or varnish it over by simulated
gaiety ; he may silence the world, but
he cannot always silence himiself. If
this is only a beginning, and you mean,
henceforward, to trample all principle
under foot, that is another thing ; but
a man of fine parts and nice feelings is'
trying a very dangerous experiment
with his happiness, who means to pre-
serve his general character, and indulge
in one act of baseness. Such a man
is not made to endure scorn and self-
reproach : it is far from being certain
that he will be satisfied with that un-
scriptural bargain in which he hai
gained the honours of the world, and
lost the purity of his soul.

It is impossible in the profession of
the law but that many opportunities
must occur for the exertions of charity
and benevolence : I do not mean the
charity of money, but the charity ot
time, labour, and attention ; the pro-
tection of those whose resources are
feeble, and the information of those
whose knowledge is small. In the
hands of bad men, the law is sometimes
an artifice to mislead, and sometimes

194

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHRIST.

an engine to oppress. In jonr hand%
it may be, from time to time, a buckler
to shield, and a sanctnaiy to save: yon
may lift up oppressed bamility, listen
patiently to the injuries of the wretched,
vindicate their just claims, maintain
their fair rights, and show, that in the
hurry of business, and the struggles of
ambition, yon have not foi^otten the
duties of a Christian — and the feelings
of a man. It is in your power, above
all other Christians, to combine the
wisdom of the serpent with the inno-
cence of the dove, and to fulfil with
greater energy and greater acuteness,
and more perfect effect, than other mep
can pretend to, the love, the lessons,
and the law of Christ.

I should caution the younger part of
this profession (who are commonly
selected for it on account of their
superior talents,) to cultivate a little
more diffidence of their own powers,
and a little less contempt for received
opinions, than is commonly exbibited
at the beginning of their career : mis-
trust of this nature teaches moderation
in the formation of opinions, and pre-
vents the painful necessity of incon-
sistency and recantation in future life.
It is not possible that the ablest young
men at the beginning of their intel-
lectual existence can anticipate all
those reasons, and dive into all those
motives, which induce mankind to act
as they do act, and make the world
such as we find it to be ; and though
there is doubtless much to alter, and
much to improve in human afiairs, yet
you will find mankind not quite so
wrong as, in the first ardour of youth,
you supposed them to be ; and yon
will find, as you advance in life, many
new lights to open upon you, which
nothing hut advancing in life could
ever enable you to observe. I say this,
not to check originality and vigour of
mind, which are the best chattels and
possessions of the world ; but to check
that eagerness which arrives at con-
clusions without sufficient premises; to
prevent that violence which is not un-
commonly atoned for in after life, by
the sacrifice of all principle and all
opinions ; to lessen that contempt
which prevents a young man from

improving his own understanding, bv
making a proper and prudent use of
the understandings of his fellow-crea-
tures.

There is another unchristian fault
which must be guarded against in the
profession of the law, and that is,
misanthropy ^— an exaorgefated opinion
of the faults and follies of mankind.
It is naturally the worst part of man-
kind who are seen in courts of justice,
and With whom the professors of the
law are most conversant. The per-
petual recurrence of crime and guilt
insensibly connects itself with the re-
collections of the human race : man-
kind are always painted in the atti-
tude of snfiering and inflicting. It
seems as if men were bound together
by the relations of fraud and crime;
but laws are not made for the quiet,
the good, and the just : you see and
know little of them in your profession,
and, therefore, you forget them : you
see the oppressor, and you let loose
your eloquence against him ; but you
do not see the man of silent charity,
who is always seeking out objects of
compassion : the faithful guardian
does not come into a court of justice,
nor the good wife, nor the just servant,
nor the dutiful son ; you punish the
robbers who ill-treated the wayfaring
man, but yon know nothing of the
good Samaritan who bound up bis
wounds. The lawyer who tempted
his Master had heard, perhaps, of the
sins of the woman at the feast, without
knowing that she had poured her store
of precious ointment on the feet of
Jesus.

Upon those who are engaged in
studying the laws of their country
devolves the honourable and Christian
task of defending the accused; a
sacred duty never to be yielded up,
never to be influenced by any vehe-
mence, nor intensity of public opinion.
In these times of profound peace and
unexampled prosperity, there is little
danger in executing this duty, and
little temptation to violate it: but
human affairs change like the clouds
of heaven ; another year may find us,
or may leave us, in all the perils and
bitterness of internal dissension; and

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHRIST.

195

upon one of you may de rolve the defence
of some accased person, the object of
men's hopes and fears, the single point
on which the eyes of a whole people
are bent. These are the occasions
which try a man's inward heart, and
separate the dross of haman nature
from the gold of human nature. On
these occasions, never mind being
mixed up for a moment with the
criminal, and the crime; fling your-
self back upon great principles, fling
yourself back upon God; yield not
one atom to* yiolence ; suflfer not the
slightest encroachments of injustice ;
retire not one step before the frowns of
power; tremble not, for a single in-
stant, at the dread of misrepresenta-
tion. The great interests of mankind
are placed in your hands ; it is not so
mnch the individcial you are defend-
ing; it is not so much a matter of
consequence whether this, or that, is
proved to be a crime; but on such
occasion, yon are often called upon to
defend the occupation of a defender,
to take care that the sacred rights
belonging to that character are not
destroyed ; that that best privilege of
your profession, which so much
secures our regard, and so much re-
dounds to your credit, is never
soothed by flattery, never corrupted by
favour, never chilled by fear. You
may practise this wickedness secretly,
as you may any other wickedness ;
jou may suppress a topic of defence,
or soften an attack upon opponents,
or weaken your own argument, and
sacrifice the man who has put his
trust in you, rather than provoke the
powerful by the triumphant establish-
ment of unwelcome innocence : but if
you do this, you are a guilty man
before God. It is better to keep within
the pale of honour, it is better to be
pure in Christ, and to feel that you
are pure in Christ : and if ever the
praises of mankind are sweet, if it be
ever allowable to a Christian to
breathe the incense of popular favour,
and to say it is grateful and good, it is
when the honest, temperate, unyield-
ing advocate, who has protected inno-
cence from the grasp of power, is
followed from the hall of judgment by

the prayers and blessings of a grateful
people.

These are the Christian excellences
which the members of the profession
of the law have, above all, an oppor-
tunity of cultivating : this is your
tribute to the happiness of your
fellow-creatures, and these your pre-
parations for eternal life. Do not lose
God in the fervour and business of the
world ; remember that the churches of
Christ are more solemn, and more
sacred, than your tribunals ; bend not
before the judges of the king, and
forget the Judge of judges; search
not other men's hearts without heed-
ing that your own hearts will be
searched ; be innocent in the midst of
subtilty ; do not carry the lawful arts
of your profession beyond your pro-
fession; but when the robe of the
advocate is laid aside, so live that no
man shall dare to suppose your
opinions venal, or that your talents
and energy may be bought for a
price : do not heap scorn and con-
tempt upon your declining years, by
precipitate ardour for success in your
profession; but set out with a Arm
determination to be unknown, rather
than ill known ; and to rise honestly,
if you rise at all. Let the world see
that you have risen, because the natu-
ral probity of your heart leads you to
truth ; because the precision and extent
of your legal knowledge enables you
to find the right way of doing the right
thing; because the thorough knowledge
of legal art and legal form is, in your
hands, not an instrument of chicanery,
but the plainest, easiest, and shortest
way to the end of strife. Impress
upon yourself the importance of your
profession ; consider that some of the
greatest and most important interests
of the world are committed to your
care — that you are our protectors
against the encroachments of power —
that you are the preservers of freedom,
the defenders of weakness, the unra-
vellers of cunning, the investigators of
artifice, the humblers of pride, and the
scourges of oppression : when you
are silent, the sword leaps from its
scabbard, and nations are given up to
the madness of internal strife. In all

O 2

196

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHRIST.

the ciYil difficnlties of life, men de-
pend upon jour exercised faculties,
and joor spotless integrity ; and thej
require of jou an elevation abore all
that is mean, and a spirit which will
nerer yield when it ought not to yield.
As long as your profession retains its
character for learning, the rights of
mankind will be well arranged ; as
long as it retains its character for
Tirtuons boldness, those rights will be
well defended; as long as it pre-
serves itself pure and iDcormptible on
other occasions not connected with

your profession, those talents will
never be used to the public iojaiy,
which were intended and nurtured for
the public good. I hope you will
weigh these observations, and apply
them to the business of the ensaiog
week, and beyond that, in the common
occupations of your profession : always
bearing in your minds the emphatic
words of the text, and often in the
hurry of your busy, active lives,
honestly, humbly, heartily exclaiming
to the Son of God, ** Master, what
shall I do to inherit eternal life ?**

SPEECHES.

MEETING OF THE CLERGY
OF CLEVELAND.

MarcK 1825.

[From the Yorkshire Herald.']

Mr. Archdeaooit, — I am extremely
sorry that the clergy of the North
Riding of Yorkshire have abandoned
that distinction and pre-eminence,
which they have held over the clergy
of the other two Ridings, in their ab-
stinence from political discussion and
from public meetings, on the subject
of the Catholics. I sincerely wish that
nothing had been done, and no meet-
ing of any description called. As it
has been called, it is my duty to at-
tend it, and certainly I will riot attend
in silence. Do not let my learned
brethren, however, be alarmed ; I am
not going to inflict upon them a speech.
I never attended a public political
meeting before in my life ; nor have I
cfer made a speech ; and therefore my
vant of skill is a pretty good security
to you for my want of length.

There are two difficulties in speak-
ing upon the subject ; — one, that the
topics are very numerous, the other,
that they are trite; — the last I cannot
core, nor can you cure it; and we must
^ agree to suffer patiently under each
other. I shall obviate the first by con-
fining myself to those commonplaces
in which the strength of the enemy
seems principally to consist : if they
have been . an hundred times refuted
before, do not blame me for refuting

them again, bat take the blame to
yourselves for advancing them!

The first dictum of the enemies of
the Catholics is, that they are not to be
believed upon their octOi ; bqt upon
what condition did the parliament of
1793 grant to the Catholics immunity
and relief ? Upon the condition that
they should sign certain oaths; and why
was this made a condition, if the oath
of a Catholic is not credible ? Or is a
small subdivision of the clergy of the
North Riding of Yorkshire to consider
that test as futile, and those securities
as frail, which the united wisdom of
the British Parliament has deemed
sufficient for the most sacred acts, and
the most solemn laws ? I ana almost
ashamed to ask you (for it has been
regularly asked in this discussion for
thirty years past), by what are the
Catholics excluded from the offices for
which they petition, unless by their
respect for oaths? If they do not re-
spect oaths they cannot be excluded ;
if they do respect oaths, why do you
exclude them when you have such
means of safety and security in your
own hands? If Catholics are so care-
less of their oaths, show me some sus-
pected Catholic who has crept into
place by perjury ; who has enjoyed
those advantages by his own impiety,
which are denied to him by the justice
of the law: I not only do not know an
instance of this kind, but I never
heard of such an instance : — if you
have heard such an instance, produce
it ; if not, give up your gratuitous and

o 3

19S

SFEECn AT CLEVELAKD.

Bcandaloiu diarge. Bat not aolj do I
see men of the greatest rank and for-
tane rabiuitting to the most mortifying
privations for the sake of oaths, bot I
see the lowest and poorest Catholics
give up their right of voting at elec-
tions, sacrificing the opportunity of
supporting the fayoorer of their fa-
Yonrite question, and suffering the
disgrace of rejection at the hustings,
from their deUcate and conscientious
regard to the solemn covenant of an
oath« What magistrate dares reject
the oath of a Catholic ? What judge
dares reject it ? Is not property
changed, is not liberty abridged, is not
the blood of the malefactor shed? Are
not the most solemn acts of law, both
here and in Ireland, founded and bot-
tomed upon the oath of a Catholic ?
Is no peace, is no league, made with
Catholics? do not the repose and hap-
piness of Europe often rest upon the
oaths and asseverations of Catholics ?
Does mj learned brother forget that
two-thirds of Christian Europe are
Catholics? — and am I to understand
from him, that this vast proportion of
the Christian world is deficient in the
common elements of civil life? — that
thej are no more capable of herding
together than the brutes of the field? —
that they appeal to God only to allay
suspicion, and to protect fraud ? If
such are his opinions, I must tell him
(though I am sure he neither knows
the mischief, nor means it), that Car-
lile, in his wildest blasphemies against
the Christian religion, never uttered
anything against it so horrible and so
unjust

I come now to another common
phrase, the parent of much bigotry
and mischief ; and that is, that *' The
spirit of the Catholic religion is «n-
changeable and unchanged" Now, Sir,
I must tell these gentlemen of the 15th
century, that if this method of appealing
to the absurdities of a past age, and
impinging them upon the present age
is fair and just, it must be a rule as
applicable to one sect as to another.
Upon this principle, I may call the
Church of Scotland a persecuting
Church, because, in the year 1646, it
petitioned Parliament for the severest

persecution of heretics. Upon the
same principle, CatlK^cs might retort
upon our own Church the many Ca-
tholics condemned to death in the
reign of Elizabeth ; — upon this prin-
ciple they might cast in your teeth the
decrees of the University of Oxford, in
support of passive obedience, ordered
by the House of Commons to be burned
by the hands of the common hangman
in the reign of Queen Anne; they might
remind you of the atrocious and im-
moral acts of Parliament, passed by
the IVotestant parliaments of Ireland
against its Catholic inhabitants, during
the reigns of George L and Greorge II.
Wickedness and cruelty such as the
Spartan would not have exercised upon
his helot — such as the planter would
abstain from with his slave — one of
the worst and most wicked periods of
human history ! Are all these impu-
tations true now, because they were
true then f Has not the General As-
sembly of the Church of Scotland
almost petitioned in favour of the
Catholics? Would any Protestant
church now condemn to death those
who dissented from the doctrines of its
establishment ? All dissenters live in
the midst of our venerable establish-
ment unmolested, and under the broad
canopy of the law. It is not now pos-
sible, with all the intelligence and wis-
dom which characterises that learned
body, that a similar decree should
emanate from the University of Oxford.
For all our own institutions we claim
the benefit of time ; and, like Joshua,
bid the sun stand still, when we want
to smite and discomfit our enemies.
But, Sir, remember at what a period
this assertion is made — of the nn^
changed and unchangeable spirit of
the Catholic religion. The Catholic
revenues are destroyed, and yet the
spirit of submission to priests is the
same in the minds of the lay Catholics
who have voted for the destruction of
these revenues. The inquisitions are
broken open^the chains of the victims
are loosened — the fires are quenched
— the Catholic churches are deserted !
In Spain, in France, in Italy, the priests
are reduced to a state of beggary; and
yet the authors of this meeting can see

SPEECH AT CLEVELAND.

199

no change in the minds of the Catho-
lics. Sir, I meet this absolute assertion
with an absolute denial I and I bring
mj proofs. Let the mover of this re-
solution read the oath of 1793, taken
by the four Catholic archbishops, the
bishops and clergy of Ireland, — let
him read the rescript of pope Pius VL,
of the 17th of June, 1791, — let him
read the solemn resolutions of six of
the most considerable Catholic univer-
sities of Europe, required and received
by Mr. Pitt, — let him remember that
the pope has continued a Catholic
bishop of Malta, nominated to that see
by the late king ; and now let the
learned gentleman produce to me, from
his records, such facts, such opinions,
such clear declarations, such securities,
and such liberality as these. He has
nothing to produce, and nothing to
say, but the trita cantilena that **the
spirit of the Catholic religion is un-
changeable and unchanged." Sir, if I
could suffer my understanding to be
debauched by such a mere jingle of
words— if I could say that any human
spirit was unchanged and unchange-
able, I should say so of that miserable
spirit of religious persecution, of that
monastic meanness, of that monopoly
of heaven, which says to other human
beings, ** If you will not hold up your
hands in prayer as I hold mine — if you
will not worship your God as I wor-
ship mine, I will blast you with civil
incapacities, and keep you for ever in
the dust." This, Sir, of all the demons
which haunt the earth, is the last bad
spirit which retires before justice, cou-
rage, and truth.

I must not pass over (while I am
cleansing gutters and sweeping streets)
the notable phrase of **a government
estenttalty Protestant" If this phrase
mean anything, it means nothing use-
ful to the arguments of my opponents.
In clinging to this phrase, which, by
tiie smiles and nods of the gentlemen
opposite, appears to give them peculiar
delight, they must mean, I suppose,
Episcopalian as well as Protestant, for
they never can mean that our govern-
ment is essentially Presbyterian, essen-
tially Swedenborgian, essentially Rant-
ing, or essentialiy Methodist. With

this limitation, I beg to ask why this
essentially Protectant government al-
lows Unitarians and Presbyterians in
the bosom of its legislature ? Why
there is a regular Catholic establish-
ment in Malta and in Canada? Why
it tolerates (nay, even endows) Maho-
medan and Hindoo establishments ?
In the midst of this ** essentially Pro-
testant government,'* sat Catholic peers
and Catholic commoners for more than
a century — without blame, without
reproach, without religious conflict, in
civil harmony, and in theological
peace.

Now I come to the danger! What
is it ? Is it from foreign intercourse ?
But is the question now agitated for
the first time, whether or not the priests
of Ireland are to have intercourse with
a foreign power ? That intercourse
has subsisted for centuries, does subsist
at this moment, in full vigour, unin-
spected and uncontrolled. Mr. Grat-
tan*s bill, which I strongly suspect the
learned mover never to have read,
subjects all this intercourse to the in-
spection of Protestant commissioners,
punishes, not with obsolete penalties
like the present laws, but with adequate
and proper punishment, any clandes-
tine intercourse with Rome. I really
did expect that my learned brothers
would be able to discriminate the re-
medy from the disease, and that when
they had resolved to be frightened,
they would at least have ascribed their
agitation to the unrestrained intercourse
|prith Rome; and not to the very mea-
sures which are intended to prevent it.
Does the learned mover Imagine that
the Protestants, like children, are going
to lay open all offices to the Catholics
without exception and without precau-
tion? No Catholic chancellor, no
Lord-keeper, no Lord-Lieutenant of
Ireland, no place in any ecclesiastical
court of judicature ; and many other
restraints and negatived are contained
in the intended emancipation of the
Catholics. Then let the learned gen-
tleman read the proposed oath. I defy
Dr. Duigenan, in the full vigour of his
incapacity, in the strongest access of
that Protestant epilepsy with which be
was so often convulsed, to have added

o 4

200

SPEECH AT CLEVELAND.

a single security to the secaritj of that
oath. If Catholics are fonnidable, are
not Protestant members elected by
Catholics formidable? Bat what will
the numbers of the Catholics be? Five
or six in one hoase, and ten or twelve
in the other; and this I state upon the
printed authority of Lord Harrowby,
the tried and acknowledged friend of
our Church, the amiable and revered
patron of its poorest members. The
Catholics did not rebel during the war
carried on for a Catholic king in the
year 1715, nor in 1745. The govern-
ment armed the Catholics in the
American war. The last rebellion no
one pretends to have been a Catholic
rebellion, the leaders were, with one
exception, all Protestants. The .king
of Prussia, the emperor of Russia, do
not complain of their Catholic subject&
The Swiss cantons. Catholic and Pro-
testant, live together in harmony and
peace. Childish prophecies of danger
are always made, and always falsified.
The Church of England (if you will
believe some of its members) is the
most fainting, sickly, hysterical institu-
tion that ever existed in the world.
Everything is to destroy it, everything
to work its dissolution and decay. If
money is taken for tithes, the Church
of England is to pejish. If six old
Catholic peers, and twelve commoners,
come into Parliament, these holy
hypochondriacs tear their hair, and
beat their breast, and mourn over the
ruin of their Established Church! The
Banter of yesterday is cheerful an<^
confident. The Presbyterian stands'
upon his principles. The Quaker is
calm and contented. The strongest,
and wisest, and best establishment in
the world, suffers in the full vigour of
manhood all the fears and the trem-
blings of extreme old age.

. A vast deal is said of the spirit of
the Church of Home, and of the claims
it continues tcf make. But what sig-
nify its claims, and of what importance
is its spirit ? The bill will refuse all
office to Catholics, who will not, by the
most solemn oath, restrain this spirit,
and abjure their claims. What esta-
blishment can muzzle its fools and
lunatics? No one who will not abjure

these Catholic follies can take anything
by Catholic emancipation. The bill
which emancipates, is not a bill to
emancipate all Catholics ; but only to
emancipate those who will prove to us,
by the most solemn obligations, that
they are wise and moderate Catholics.

I conclude. Sir, remarks which, upon
such a subject, might be carried to
almost any extent, with presenting to
you a petition to Parliament, and re-
commending it for the adoption of this
meeting. And upon this petition, I
beg leave to say a few words: — I am
the writer of the petition I lay before
you; and I have endeavoured to make
it as mild and moderate as I possibly
could. If I had consulted my own
opinions a2cme, I should have said, that
the disabling laws against the Catho-
lics were a disgrace to the statute-book,
and that every principle of justice,
prudence, and humanity, called for
their immediate repeal ; but he who
wishes to do anything useful in this
world, must consult the opinions of
others as well as his own. I knew
very well if I had proposed such a
petition to my excellent friends, the
Archdeacon and Mr. William Vernon,
it would not have suited the mildness
and moderation of their character, that
they should accede to it; and I knew
very well, that without the authority
of their names, I could have done
nothing. The present petition, when
proposed to them by me, met, as I ex-
pected, with their ready and cheerful
compliance. But though I propose
this petition as preferable to the other,
I should infinitely prefer that we do
nothing, and disperse without coming
to any resolution.

I am sick of these little clerico-poli-
tical meetings. They bring a disgrace
upon us and upon our profession, and
make us hateful in the eyes of the laity.
The best thing we could have done,
would have been never to have met at
alL The next best thing we can do
(now we are met), is to do nothing.
The third choice is to take my petition.
The fourth, last, and worst, to adopt
your own. The wisest thing I have
heard here to-day, is the proposition
of Mr. Chaloner, that we should bora

SPEECH AT BEVERLEY OK THE CATHOLIC CLAIMS. 201

both petitions, and ride home. Here
we are, a set of obscure country
clergymen, at the ••Three Tuns/* at
Thirsk, like flies on the chariot-wheel ;
perched ^pon a question of which we
can neither see the diameter, nor con-
trol the motion, nor influence the
moving force. What good can such
meetings do ? They emanate from
local conceit, advertise local ignorance;
make men, who are venerable by their
profession, ridiculous by their preten-
sions, and swell that mass of paper
lumber, which, gpt up with infli\ite
rural bustle, and read without being
heard in Parliament, are speedily con-
signed to merited contempt.

A PETITION

Proposed bp the Bev, Sydney Smith, at a
Meeting of the Clergy of Cleveland, in
Yorkshire, on the subject of the CathoHe
Question.— 182S.

We, the undersigned, being clergymen
of the Church of England, resident
within the diocese of York, humbly
petition your Honourable Hotise to
take into your consideration the state
of those laws which affect the Roman
Catholics of Great Britain and Ireland.

We beg you to inquire, whether all
those statutes, however wise and ne-
cessary in their origin, may not now
(when the Church of England is rooted
in the public affection, and the title to
the throne undisputed) be wisely and
safely repealed.

We are steadfast friends to that
Church of which we are members, and
we wish no law repealed which is really
essential to its safety; but we submit
to the superior wisdom of your Honour-
able House, whether that Church is not
sufficiently protected by its antiquity,
by its learning, by its piety, and by
that moderate tenor which it knows so
well how to preserve amidst the oppo-
site excesses of mankind — the indif-
ference of one age, and the fanaticism
of auother.

It' is our earnest hope, that any
indulgence you might otherwise think
it expedient to extend to the Catholic
subjects of this realm, may not be pre-

vented by the intemperate conduct of
some few members of that persuasion;
that in the great business of framing a
lasting religious peace for these king-
doms, the extravagance of over-heated
minds, or t)ie studied insolence of men
who intend mischief, may be equally
overlooked.

If your Honourable House should,
in your wisdom, determine that all
these laws, which are enacted against
the Roman Catholics, cannot with
safety and advantage be repealed, we
then venture to express an hope, that
such disqualifying laws alone will be
suffered to remain, which you consider
to be clearly required for the good of
the Church and State.

We feel the blessing of our own re-
ligious liberty, and we think it a serious
duty to extend it to others, in every
degree in which sound discretion will
permit.

Note.— This meeting was very nume-
rously attended by the clei^. Mr. Arch-
deacon Wrangham and ^e Reverend
William Yemon Harcourt (son of the late
Archbishop of York), a very enlightened
and liberal man, were the only persons who
supported the Petition.

CATHOLIC CLAIMS.

A Speech at a Meeting qf the Clergy qf the
Archdeaconry qf the East Biding qf
Yorkshire, held a!t Beverley, in that
Biding, on Monday, April 11, 1825, for
the purpose qf petitioning Parliament,
Ac*

[Prom the Yorkshire SeraXd^

Mr. Archd^jacon, — It is very dis-
agreeable to me to differ from so many
worthy and respectable clergymen here
assembled, and not only to differ from
them, but, I am afraid, to stand alone
among them. I would much rather
vote in majorities, and join in this, or
any other political chorus, than to
stand unassisted and alone, as I am
now doing. I dislike such meetings for

* I was left at this meeting in a minority
of one. A poor olei^man whispered to me,
that he was quite of my way of thinking,
but had nine children. J begged he would
remain a Protestant,

202

SPEECH AT BEVEBLET

each purposes — I wish I could re-
concile it to my conscience to stay
away from them, and to my tempera-
ment to be silent at them ; but if they
are called by others, I deem it right to
attend — if I attend, I must say what I
think. If it be unwise in us to meet in
tayerns to discuss political subjects, the
fault is not mine, for I should never
think of calling such a meeting. If the
subject is trite, no blame is imputable
to me : it is as dull to me to handle
such subjects, as it is to yon to hear
them. The customary promise on the
threshold of an inn is good entertain-
ment for man and horse. — If there be
any truth in any part of this sentence
at the Tiger, at Beverley, our horses at
this moment must certainly be in a
state of much greater enjoyment than
the masters who rode them.

It will be some amusement, however,
to this meeting, to observe the schism
which this question has occasioned in
my own parish of Londesborough. My
excellent and respectable curate, Mr.
Milestones, alarmed at the effect of the
Pope upon the East Biding, has come
here to oppose me, and there he stands,
breathing war and vengeance on the
Vatican. We had some previous con-
versation on this subject, and, in imi-
tation of our superiors, we agreed not
to make it a Cabinet question. — Mr.
Milestones, indeed, with that delicacy
and propriety which belongs to his
character, expressed some scruples
upon the propriety of voting against
his rector, but I insisted he should
come and vote against me. I assured
him nothing would give me more pain
than to think I had prevented, in any
man, the free assertion of honest opi-
nions. That such conduct, on his
part, instead of causing jealousy and
animosity between us, could not, and
would not, fail to increase my regard
and respect for him.

I beg leave, Sir, before I proceed on
this subject, to state what I mean by
Catholic emancipation. I mean eligi-
bility of Catholics to all civil offices,
with the usual exceptions introduced
into all bills — jealous safeguards for
the preservation of the Protestant
Church, and for the regulation of the

intercourse with Borne — and, lastly,
provision for the Catholic clergy.

I ohject. Sir, to the law as it stands
at present, because it is impolitic, and
because it is unjust It is impolitic,
because it exposes this country to the
greatest danger in time of war. Can.
you believe, Sir, can any man of the
most ordinary turn for observation be-
lieve, that the monarchs of Europe
mean to leave this country in the quiet
possession of the high station which it
at present holds ? Is it not obvious
that a war is coming on between the
governments of law and the govern-
ments of despotism ? — that the weak
and tottering race of the Bourbons will
(whatever bur wishes may be) be com-
pelled to gratify the wounded vanity of
the French, by plunging them into a war
with England. Already they are pity-
ing the Irish people, as you pity the
West Indian slaves — already they are
opening colleges for the reception of
Irish priests. Will they wait for your
tardy wisdom and reluctant liberality?
Is not the present state of Ireland a
premium upon early invasion ? Does
it not hold out the most alluring invi-
tation to your enemies to begin ? And
if the flag of any hostile power in Eu*
rope is unfurled in that unhappy
country, is there one Irish peasant who
will not hasten to join it? — and not
only the peasantry. Sir ; the peasantry
begin these things, but the peasantry
do not end them — they are soon joined
by an. order a little above them — and
then, after a trifling success, a still
superior class think it worth while to
try the risk : men are hurried into a
rebellion, as the oxen were pulled into
the cave of Cacus, tail foremost The
mob first, who have nothing to lose
but their lives, of which every Irish-
mati has nine — then comes the shop-
keeper — then the parish priest — then
the vicar-general — then Dr. Doyle,
and, lastly, Daniel 0*Connell. But if
the French were to make the same
blunders respecting Ireland as Napo-
leon committed, if wind and weather
preserved Ireland for you a second
time, still all your resources would be
crippled by watching Ireland. The
force employed for this might liberate

ON THE CATHOLIC CLAIMS.

203

Spain and Fortngal, ^protect India, or
accomplish any great purpose of offence
or defence.

War, Sir, seems to be almost as na-
taral a state to mankind as peace ; but
if you could hope to escape war, is
there a more powerful receipt for de-
stroying the prosperity of any country
than these eternal jealousies and dis-
tinctions between the two religions ?
What man will carry his industry and
his capital into a country where his
yard measure is a sword, his pounce-
box a powder-flask, and his ledger a
return of killed and wounded ? Where
a cat will get, there I know a cotton-
spinner will penetrate ; but let these
gentlemen wait till a few of tbeir fac-
tories have been burnt down, till one
or two respectable merchants of Man-
chester have been carded, and till they
have seen the Cravatists hanging the
Shanavists in cotton twist. In the
present fervour for spinning, ourang-
outangs, Sir, would be employed to
spin, if they could be found in suffi-
cient quantities ; but miserably will
those reasoners be disappointed who
repose upon cotton — not upon justice
—and who imagine this great question
can be put aside, because a few hun-
dred Irish spinners are gaining a mor-
sel of bread by the overflowing industry
of the English market.

Bat what right have you to continue
these rules. Sir, these laws of exclusion?
What necessity can you show for it ?
Is the (signing monarch a concealed
Catholic ? — Is his successor an open
one?-:- Is there a disputed succession?
—Is there a Catholic pretender? If
some of these circumstances are said
to have justified the introduction, and
others the continuation, of these mea-
sares, why does not the disappearance
of all these circumstances justify the
repeal of the restrictions? If you must
be unjust — if it is a luxury you cannot
live without — reserve your injustice
for the weak, and not for the strongs
persecute the Unitarians, muzzle the
Banters, be unjust to a few thousand
sectaries, not to six millions — galvanise
& frog,' don't galvanise a tiger.

If you go into a parsonage-house in
the country, Mr. Archdeacon, you see

sometimes a -style and fashion of fur-
niture which does very well for us, but
which has had its day in London. It
is seen in London no more ; it is ba-
nished to the provinces; from the gen-
tleman's houses of the provinces these
pieces of furniture, as soon as they are
discovered to be unfashionable, descend
to the farm-houses, then to cottages,
then to the faggot*heap, then to the
dung-bill. As it is with furniture so
it is with ai^uments. I hear at country
meetings many arguments against the
Catholics which are never heard in
London : their London existence is
over — they are only to be met with in
the provinces, and there they are fast
hastening down, with clumsy chairs
and ill-fashioned sofas, to another
order of men. But, Sir, as they are
not yet gone where I am sure they are
going, I shall endeavour to point out
their defects, and to accelerate their
descent.

Many gentlemen now assembled at
the Tiger Inn, at Beverley, believe that
the Catholics do not keep faith with
heretics ; these gentlemen ought to
know that Mr. Pitt put this very ques-
tion to six of the leading Catholic
Universities in Europe. He inquired
of them whether this tenet did or did
not constitute any part of the Catholic
faith. The question received from
these Universities the most decided
negative ; they denied that such doc-
trine formed any part of the creed of
Catholics. Such doctrine. Sir, is de-
nied upon oath, in the. bill now pend-
ing in Parliament, a copy of which I-
hold in my hand. The denial of
such a doctrine upon oath is the only
means by which a Catholic can relieve
himself from his present incapacities.
If a Catholic, therefore, Sir, will not
take the oath, he is not relieved, and
remains where you wish him to remain;
if he do take the oath, you are safo
from this peril ; if he have no scruple
about oaths, of what consequence is it
whether this bill passes, the very ob-
ject of which is to relieve him from
oaths? Look at the fact. Sir. Do the
Protestant cantons of Switzerland,
living under the same state with the
[Catholic cantons, complain that no

204

SPEECH AT BEVERLEY

fatth is kept with heretics? Do not
the Catholics and Protestants in the
kingdom of the Netherlands meet in
one common Parliament? Could they
pursue a common purpose, have com-
mon friends, and common enemies, if
there were a shadow of truth in this
doctrine imputed to the Catholics ?
The religious affairs of this last king-
dom are managed with the strictest
impartiality to both sects; ten Catholics
and ten Protestants (gentlemen need
not look so much surprised to hear it)
positively meet together. Sir, in the
same room. They constitute what is
called the religious committee for the
kingdom of the Netherlands, and so
extremely desirous are they of pre-
serying the strictest impartiality, that
they have chosen a Jew for their secre-
tary. Their conduct has been unim-
peachable and unimpeached ; the two
sects are at peace with each other; and
the doctrine, that no faith is kept with
heretics, would, I assure you, be very
little credited at Amsterdam or the
Hague, cities as essentially Protestant
as the town of Beverley.

Wretched is our condition, and still
more wretched the condition of Ireland,
if the Catholic does not respect his
oath. He serves on grand and petty
juries in both countries ; we trust our
lives, our liberties, and our properties,
to his conscientious reverence of an
oath, and yet, when it Buits the por-
IK)ses of party to bring forth this argu-
ment, we say he has no respect for
oaths. The right to a landed estate of
SOOO/. per annum was decided last
week, in York, by a jury, the foreman
of which was a Catholic ; does any
human being harbour a thought, that
this gentleman, whom we all know
and respect, would, under any circum-
stances, have thought more lightly of
the obligation of an oath than his Pro-
testant brethren of the box ? We all
disbelieve these arguments of Mr. A.
the Catholic, and of Mr. B. the Ca-
tholic ; but we believe them of Catho-
lics in general, of the abstract Catholics,
of the Catholic of the Tiger Inn, at
Beverley, the formidable unknown
Catholic, that is so apt to haunt our
clerical meetinga

I observe that some gentlemen who
argue this question are very bold about
other offices, but very jealous lest Ca-
tholic gentlemen should become justices
of the peace. If this jealousy be justi-
fiable anywhere, it is justifiable in Ire-
land, where some of the best and most
respectable magistrates are Catholics.

It is not true that the Roman Catho*
lie religion is what it was. I meet
that assertion with a plump denial
The Pope does not dethrone kings, nor
give away kingdoms, does not extort
money, has given up, in some instances,
the nomination of bishops to Catholic
Princes, in some I believe to Protestant
Princes : Protestant worship is now
carried on at Rome. In the Low
Countries, the seat of the Duke of
Alva's cruelties, the Catholic tolerates
the Protestant, and sits with him in
the same Parliament -r- the same in
Hungary — the same in France. The
first use which even the Spanish people
made of their ephemeral liberty was to
destroy the Inquisition. It was de-
stroyed also by the mob of Portugal*
I am so far from thinking the Catholic
not to be more tolerant than \he was,
that I am much afraid the English,
who gave the first lesson of toleration
to mankind, will very soon have a
great deal to learn from their pupils.

Some men quarrel with the Catho-
lics, because their language was violent
in the Association ; but a groan or
two. Sir, after two hundred years of
incessant tyranny, may surely be for-
given. A few warm phrases to com-
pensate the legal massacre of a million
of Irishmen are not unworthy of onr
pardon. All this hardly deserves the
eternal incapacity of holding civil
offices. Then they quarrel with the
Bible Society ; in other words, they
vindicate that ancient tenet of their
Church, that the Scriptures are not to
be left to the unguided judgment of
the laity. The objection to Catholics
is, that they did what Catholics ought
to do — and do not many prelates of
our Church object to the Bible So-
ciety, and contend that the Scriptures
ought not to be circulated without the
comment of the Prayer Book and the
Articles ? If they are right, the Catho-

ON THE CATHOLIC CLAIMS.

^05

lies are not wrong ; and if the Catho-
lics are wrong, thej are in such good
company, that we oaght to respect
their errors.

Why not pay their clergy ? the
Preshyterian clergy in the north of
Ireland are paid by the state: the
Catholic clei^ of Canada are pro-
vided for: the priests of the Hindoos
are, I belieye, in some of their temples,
paid by the Company. Ton mast
surely admit, that the Catholic religion
(the religion of two thirds of Europe)
is better than no religion. I do not
regret that the Irish are under the
dominion of the priests. I am glad
that 80 sayage a people as the lower
orders of Irish are under the dominion
of their priests ; for it is a step gained
to place such beings under any in-
fluence, and the clergy are always the
first civilisers of mankind. The Irish
are deserted by their natural aristo-
cracy, and I should wish to make
their priesthood respectable in their
appearance, and easy in their circum-
stances. A gOTernment provision has
produced the most important changes
in the opinions of the Presbyterian
clergy of the north of Ireland, and
has changed them from levellers and
Jacobins into reasonable men ; it would
not fail to improve most materially
the political opinions of the Catholic
priests. This cannot, however, be
done, without the emancipation of the
laity. No priest would dare to accept
a salary from Government, unless this
preliminary were settled, I am aware
it would give to Government a tre-
mendous power in that country; but
I must choose the least of two evils.
The great point, as the physicians say,
in some diseases, is to resist the ten-
dency to death. The great object of
our day is to prevent the loss of Ire-
land, and the consequent ruin of Eng-
land ; to obviate the tendency to death ;
we will first keep the patient alive, and
then dispute about his diet and his
medicine.

Suppose -a law were passed, that no
clergyman, who had ever held a living
in the East Biding, could be made a
bishop. Many gentlemen here (who
have no hopes of ever being removed

from their parishes) would feel the
restriction of the law as a considerable
degradation. We should soon be
pointed at as a lower order of clergy-
men. It would not be long before the
common people would find some fortu^
nate epithet for us, and it would not be
long either before we should observe
in our brethren of the north and the
west an air of superiority, which would
aggravate not a little the injustice of
the privation. Every man feels the
insults thrown upon his aistei the in*
suited party falls lower, everybody
else becomes higher. There are heart-
burnings and recollections. Peace flies
from that land. The volume of Par-
liamentary evidence I have brought
here is loaded with the testimony of
witnesses of all ranks and occupations,
stating to the House of Commons the
undoubted effects produced upon the
lower order of Catholics by these dis-
qualifying laws, and the lively interest
they take in their removal. I have
seventeen quotations. Sir, from this
evidence, and am ready to give any
gentleman my references \ but I forr
bear to read them, from compassion to
my reverend brethren, who have trotted
many miles to vote against the Pope,
and who will trot back in the dark, if
I attempt to throw additional light
upon the subject.

I have, also. Sir, a high-spirited
class of gentlemen to deal with, who
will do nothing from fear, who admit
the danger, but think it disgraceful to
act as if they feared it. There is a
degree of fear, which destroys a man's
faculties, renders him incapable of
acting, and makes him ridiculous.
There is another sort of fear, which
enables a man to foresee a coming
evil, to measure it, to examine his
powers of resistance, to balance the
evil of submission against the evils of
opposition or defeat, and if he thinks
he must be ultimately overpowered,
leads him to find a good escape in a
good time. I can see no possible dis-
grace in feeling this sort of fear, and
in listening to its suggestions. But it
is mere cant to say, that men will not
be actuated by fear in such questions
as these. Those who pretend not to

206 SPEECH AT BEVERLEY ON JHE CATHOLIC CLAUIS.

fear now, would be tbe first to fear
npon the approach of danger; it is
always the case with this distant
vaionr. Most of the concessions which
haye been given to the Irish have been
l^iven to fear. Ireland wonld have
been lost to this country, if the British
Legislature had not, with all the ra-
pidity and precipitation of the truest
panic, passed those acts which Ireland
did not ask, but demanded in the
time of her armed associations. I
should not think a man brave, but
mad, who did not fear the treasons
and rebellions of Ireland in time of
war. I should think him not dastardly,
but consummately wise, who provided
against them in time of peace. The
Catholic question has made a greater
progress since the opening of this
Parliament than I ever remeipber it
to have made, and it has made that
progress from fear alone. The House
of Commons were astonished by the
union of the Irish Catholics. They
saw that Catholic Ireland had dis-
covered her strength, and stretched
out her limbs, and felt manly powers,
and called for manly treatment ; and
the House of Commons wisely and
practically yielded to the innovations
of time, and the shifting attitude of
human affairs.

I admit the Church, Sir, to be in
great danger. I am sure the State is
so also. My remedy for these evils
Is, to enter into an alliance with the
Irish people — to conciliate the clergy,
by giving them pensions — to loyalise
the laity, by putting them on a foot-
ing with the Protestant. My remedy
' is tbe old one, approved of from the
beginning of the world, to lessen
dangers, by increasing fViends, and
appeasing enemies. I think it most
probable that under this system of
Crown patronage the clergy will be
quiet. A Catholic layman, who finds
ail the honours of the state open to
him, will not, I think, run into treason
and rebellion — will not live with a
rope about his neck, in order to turn
our bishops out, and put his own in ;
he may not, too, be of opinion that
the utility of his bishop will be four
times as great, because his income is

four times as large; but whether he is
or not, he will never endanger his
sweet acres (large measure) for such
questions as these. Anti-Trinitarian
Dissenters sit in the House of Com-
mons, whom we believe to be con-
demned to the punishments of another
world. There is no limit to the in-
troduction of Dissenters into both
Houses — Dissenting Lords or Dis-
senting Commons. What mischief have
Dissenters for this last century and a
half plotted against the Church of
England ? The Catholic lord and tbe
Catholic gentleman (restored to their
fair rights) will never join with levellers
and Iconoclasts. Yon will find them
defending you hereafter against your
Protestant enemies. The crosier in
any hand, the mitre on any head, are
more tolerable in the eyes of a Catho-
lic than doxological Barebones and
tonsured CromwelL

We preach to our congregations,
Sir, that a tree is known by its fruits.
By the fruits it produces I will judge
your system. What has it done for
Ireland? New Zealand is emerging
— Otaheite is emerging — Ireland is
not emerging — she is still veiled in
darkness — her children, safe under no
law, live in the ^ery shadow of death.
Has your system of exclusion made
Ireland rich ? Has it made Ireland
loyal? Has it made Ireland free?
Has it made Ireland happy ? How is
the wealth of Ireland proved ? Is it
by the naked, idle, sufiering savages,
who are slumbering on the mud floor
of their cabins? In what does the
loyalty of Ireland consist ? Is it in
the eagerness with which they would
range themselves under the hostile
banner of any invader, for your des-
truction and for your distress ? Is it
liberty when men breathe and more
amongthe bayonets of English soldiers?
Is their happiness and their histoiy
anything but such a tissue of murders,
burnings, hanging, famine, and disease,
as never existed before in the annals
of the worid ? This is the system,
which, I am sure, with veiy different
intentions, and different views of iw
effects, you are met this day to uphold.
These are the dreadful conscqaencefi,

SPEECH AT THE TAUNTON REFORM MEETING.

which those laws* your petition prays
may be continaed, have produced upon

Ireland. From the principles of that
system, from the cruelty of those laws,
I torn, and turn with the homage of
my whole heart, to that memorable
proclamation which the Head of our
Church — the present monarch of these
realms — has lately made to his here-
ditary dominions of Hanover — That
no man should be subjected to civil
incapacities on account of reliffious
opinions. Sir, there have been many
memorable things done in this reign.
Hostile armies have been destroyed ;
fleets have been captured ; formidable
combinations have been broken to
pieces — but this sentiment in the mouth
of a King deserves more than ail
glories and victories the notice of that
historian who is destined to tell to
future ages the deeds of the English
people. I hope he will lavish upon it
every gem which glitters in the cabinet
of genius, and so uphold it to the
world that it will be remembered when
Waterloo is forgotten, and when the
fall of Paris is blotted out from the
memory of man. Great as it is, Sir,
this is not the only pleasure I have
received in these latter days. I have
seen within these few weeks a degree
of wisdom in our mercantile law,
such superiority to vulgar prejudice,
views so just and so profound, that it
seemed to me as if I was reading the
works of a speculative economist, rather
than the improvement of a practical
politician, agreed to by a legislative
assembly, and upon the eve of being
carried into execution, for the benefit
of a great people. Let who will be
their master, I honour and praise the
ministers who have learnt such a lesson.
I rejoice that I have lived to see such
an improvement in English affairs —
that the stubborn resistance to all im-
provement — the contempt of all scien-
tific reasoning, and the rigid adhesion
to every stupid error which so long
characterised the proceedings of this
country, is fast giving way to better
tilings, under better men, placed in
better circumstances.

I confess it is not without severe pain
that, in the midst of all this expansion

207
and improvement, I perceive that in
OKT profession we arc still calling for
the same exclusion— still asking that
the same fetters may be rivetted on
our fellow-creatures— still mistaking
what constitutes the weakness and mis-
fortune of the Church, for that which
contributes to its glory, its dignity, and
its strength. Sir, there are two peti-
tions at this moment in this House,
against two of the wisest and best
measures which ever came into the
British Pariiament, against the im-
pending Com Law and against the
Catholic Emancipation —the one bill
intended to increase the comforts, and
the other to allay the bad passions of-
man. Sir, I am not in a situation of
life to do much good, but I will take
care that I will not willingly do any
evil.— The wealth of the Riding should
not tempt me to petition against either
of tho^ bills. With the Corn Bill I
have nothing to do at this time. Of
the Catholic Emancipation Bill, I shall
say, that it will be the foundation stone
of a lasting religious peace ; that it
will give to Ireland not all that it
wants, but what it most wants, and
without which no other boon will bo
of any avail.

When this bill passes, it will be
a signal to all the religious sects of
that unhappy country to lay aside their
mutual hatred, and to live in peace,
as equal men should live under equal
law— when this bill passes, the Orange
flag will fall— when this bill passes,
the Green flag of the rebel will fall —
when this bill passes, no other flag will
*fly in the land of Erin than that which
blends the Lion with the Harp — that
flag which, wherever it does fly, is the
sign of freedom and of joy — the only
banner in Europe which floats over a
limited King and a free people.

SPEECH AT THE TAUNTON
REFORM MEETING *
[From the Tauntim Courier.']

Mr. Bailiff,— This is the greatest
measure w)iich has ever been before

• I was a sincere friend to Reform ; I am
so still. It was a great deal too violent—

208

SPEECH AT THE

Parliament in my time, and the most
pregnant with good or evil to the
country ; and though I seldom meddle
with political meetings, I could not
reconcile it to mj conscience to be
absent from this.

Every- year for this half centnry the
question of Reform has been pressing
upon us, till it has swelled up at last
into this great and awful combination ;
so that almost every City and every
Borough in England are at this moment
assembled for the same purpose, and
are doing the same thing we are doing.
It damps the ostentation of argument
and mitigates the pain of doubt, to
believe (as I believe) that the measure
is inevitable; the consequences may
be good or bad, but done it must be ;
I defy the most determined enemy of
popular influence, either now, or a
little time from now, to prevent a
Reform in Parliament Some years

but the only justification is, that yon cannot
reform as you wish, by degrees ; ^u must
avail yourself of the few opportumties that
present themselves. The Keform canied,
it became the business of every honest man
to turn it to good, and to see that the people
(drunk with their new power) did not ruin
our ancient institutions. We have been in
considerable danger, and that danger is not
over. What alanns me most is the large
price paid by both parties for popular
nvoor. The yeomamy were put down:
nothing oould oe more grossly absurd— the
people wwe rising up against the poor laws,
and such an excellent and permanent force
wna abolished because they were not
deemed a proper force to deal with popular
insurrections. Tou may just as well object
to put out a fire with pond water because
pump water is better for the purpose : I say,
put out the fire with the first water you
can get ;— but the truth is, Radicals don't
like armed yeomen : they have an ugly
homicide appearance. Again,— a million of
revenue is given up in the nonsensical
penny-post scheme, to please my old, excel-
lent, and universally dissentient ftriend,
Noah Warburton. I admire the Whig
Ministry, and think they have done more
good tmngs than all the ministries since
the Bevolution : but these concessions are
sad and unworthy marks of weakness, and
fill reasonable men with just alarm. All
this folly has taken place since they have
become ministers upon principles of chival-
ry and gallantry; and the Tories, too, for
fear of the people, have been much too quiet.
Them is only one principle of public con-
duct — Do what you thiwc right, and take
vkioe and power as Mi^aocidet^, Upon any
other plan, office is shabbtneas, labour, and |
sorrow. ,

ago, by timely concession, it might
have been prevented. If Members
had been granted to Birmingham,
Leeds, and Manchester, and other
great towns as opportunities occurred,
a spirit of conciliation would have
been evinced, and the people might
have been satisfied with a BefonK«
which though remote would have
been gradual ; but with the custom-
ary blindness and insolence of human
beings, the day of adversity was for-
gotten, the rapid improvement of the
people waa not noticed ; the object of
a certain class of politicians was to
please the Court and to gratify their
own arrogance by treating every at-
tempt to expand the representation,
and to increase the popular influence,
with every species of contempt and
obloquy : the golden opportunity was
lost ; and now proud lips must swallow
bitter potions.

The arguments and the practices
(as I remember to have heard Mr.
Huskisson say) which did very well
twenty years ago, will not do now.
The people read too much, think too
much, see too many newspapers, hear
too many speeches, have their eyes too
intensely fixed upon political events.
But if it were possible to put off Par-
liamentary Reform a week ago, is ic
possible now L When a Monarch
(whose amiable and popular manners
have, I verily believe, saved us from a
Bevolution) approves the measure —
when a Minister of exalted character
plans and fashions it -—when a Cabinet
of such varied talent and disposition
protects it — when such a body of the
Aristocracy vote for it — when the
hundred-horse power of the Press is la-
bouring for it ;^-who does not know
after this (whatever b^ the decision
of thd present Parliament) that the
measure is virtually carried — and that
all the struggle between such annun-
ciation of such a plan, and its com-
pletion, is tumult, disorder, disaiSec-
tion, and (it may be) politic^ ruin ?

An Honourable Member of the
Honourable House, much connected
with this town, and once its represen-
tative, seems to be amazingly sar-
I prised, and equally dissatisfied at this

TAUNTON REFORM MEETING.

209

combination of King, Ministers, Nobles,
and People, against his opinion: —
like the gentleman who came home
from serving on a jury very much dis-
concerted, and complaining he had
met with eleven of the most obstinate
people he had ever seen in his life,
whom he found it absolutely impos-
sible by the strongest arguments to
bring over to his way of thinking.

They tell you, gentlemen, that you
have grown rich and powerful with
these rotten boroughs, and that it
would be madness to part with them,
or to alter a constitution which had
produced such happy effects. There
happens, gentlemen, to live near my
parsonage a labouring man, of very
superior character and understanding
to his fellow 'labourers ; and who has
made such good use of that superiority,
that he has saved what is (for his
station in life) a very considerable sum
of money, and if his existence be ex-
tended to the common period, he will
die rich. It happens, however, that
he is (and long has been) troubled
with violent stomachic pains, for which
he has hitherto obtained no relief, and
which really are the bane and torment
of his life. Now, if my excellent la-
bourer were to send for a physician,
and to consult him respecting this
maUdy, would it not be very singular
language if our doctor were to say to
him, ''My good friend, you surely
will not be so rash as to attempt to
get rid of these pains in your stomach.
Have you not grown rich with these
pains in your stomach ? have you not
risen under them from poverty to pros-
perity? has not your situation, since
yon were first attacked, been improv-
ing every year ? You surely will not
be so foolish and so indiscreet as to
part with the pains in your stomach?'*
— Why, what would be the answer of
the rustic to this nonsensical monition ?
"Monster of Rhubarb I (he would say)
I am not rich in consequence of 'the
pains in my stomach, but in spite of
the pains in my stomach ; and I should
have been ten times richer, and fifty
times happier, if I had never had any
pains in my stomach at all." Gentle-
men, these rotteo boroughs are your

VouIL

pains in the stomach — and you would
have been a much richer and greater
people if you had never had them at
all. Your wealth and your power
have been owing, not to the debase
and corrupted parts of the House of
Commons, but to the many indepen-
dent and honourable Members, whom
it has always contained within its
walls. If there had been a few more
of these very valuable members for
close boroughs, we should, I verily
believe, have been by this time about
as free as Denmark, Sweden, or the
Germanised States of Italy.

They tell you of the few men ot
name and character who have sat for
boroughs ; but nothing is said of those
mean and menial men who are sent
down every day by their aristocratic
masters to continue unjust and un-
necessary wars, to prevent inquiring
into profligate expenditure, to take
money out of your pockets, or to do
any other bad or base thing which the
Minister of the day may require at
their unclean hands. What mischief,
it is asked, have these boroughs done?
I believe there is not a day of your
lives in which you are not suffering in
all the taxed conmiodities of life from
the accumulation of bad votes of bad
men. But, Mr. Bailiff, if this were
otherwise, if it really were a great poli-
tical invention, that cities of 100,000
men should have no representatives,
because those representatives were
wanted for political ditches, political
walls, and political parks; that the
people should be bought and sold like
any other commodity ; that a retired
merchant should be able to go into
the market and buy ten shares in the
government of twenty millions of his
fellow-subjects ; yet, can such assever-
ations be made openly before the
people? Wise men, men conversant
with human affairs, may whisper such
theories to each other in retirement;
but can the People ever be taught that
it is right they should be bought and
sold ? Can the vehemence of eloquent
democrats be met with such arguments
and theories ? Can the doubts of
honest and limited men be met by
such arguments and theories? The

P

210

SPEECH AT THE

moment such a government is looked
at by all die people, it is lost It is
impossible to explain, defend, and re-
commend it to the mass of mankind.
And tme enough it is, that as often as
misfortune threatens ns at home, or
hnitation excites ns from abroad, poli-
tical Beform is clamoured for bj the
people — there it stands, and ever will
stand, in the apprehension of the mul-
titude — Reform, the cure of every
evil — Corruption, the source of every
misfortune — famine, defeat, decayed
trade, depressed agriculture, will all
lapse into the question of Reform.
Till that question is set at rest (and it
may be set at rest) all will be disaffec-
tipn, tumult, and perhaps (which God
avert!) destruction.

But democrats and agitators (and
democrats and agitators there are
in the world) will not be contented
with this Reform. Perhaps not, Sir ;
I never hope to content men whose
game is never to be contented — but
if they are not contented, I am sure
their discontent will then compara-
tively be of little importance. I am
afraid of them now ; I have no argu-
ments to answer them : but I shall not
be afraid of them after this Bill, and
would tell them boldly, in the middle
of their mobs, that there was no longer
cause for agitation and excitement, and
that they were intending wickedly to
the people. Tou may depend upon it
such a measure would destroy their
trade, as the repeal of duties would
destroy the trade of the smuggler;
their functions would be carried on
faintly, and with little profit ; you
would soon feel that your position was
stable, solid, and safe.

All would be well, it is urged, if
they would but let the people alone.
But what chance is there, I demand
of these wise politicians, that the
people will ever be let alone ; that
the orator will lay down his craft, and
the demagogue forget his cunning ?
If many things were let alone, which
never will be let alone, the aspect of
human affairs would be a little varied.
If the winds would let the waves alone,
there would be no storms. If gentle-
men would let ladies alone, there

would be no unhappy marriages, and
deserted damsels. If persons who can
reason no better than this, would leave
speaking alone, the school of eloquence
might be improved. I have little
hopes, however, of witnessing any of
these acts of forbearance, particularly
the last, and so we must (however
foolish it may appear) proceed to
make laws for a people who we are
sure will not be let alone.

We might really imagine, from the
objections made to the plan of Reform,
that the great mass of Englishmen
were madmen, robbers, and murderera
The Elingly power is to be destroyed,
the House of Lords is to be annihi-
lated, the Church is to be ruined,
estates are to be confiscated. I am
quite at a loss to find in these perpe-
trators of crimes — in this mass of
pillagers and lunatics — the steady and
respectable tradesmen and farmers,
who' will have votes to confer, and the
steady and respectable country gentle-
men, who will probably have votes to
receive ; — it may be true of the trades-
men of Mauritania, it may be just of
the country gentlemen of Fez — it is
anything but true of the English people.
The English are a tranquil, phlegmatic,
money-loving, money-getting people,
who want to be quiet — and would be
quiet if they were not surrounded by
evils of such magnitude, that it would
be baseness and pusillanimity not to
oppose to them the strongest constitu-
tional resistance.

Then it is said that there is to be a
lack of talent in the new Parliament :
it is to be composed of ordinary and
inferior persons, who will bring the
government of the country into con-
tempt. But the best of all talents,
gentlemen, is to conduct our affairs
honestly, diligently, and economically
— and this talent will, I am sure,
abound as much in the new Parlia-
ment as in many previous Parliaments.
Parliament is not a school for rhetoric
and declamation, where a stranger
would go to hear a speech, as he would
go to the Opera to hear a song ; but
if it were otherwise— -if eloquence be
a necessary ornament o^ and an in-
dispensable adjunct to popular as-

TAUNTON REFORM MEETING.

211

semblies — can it ever be absent from
popular assemblies? I hare always
found that all things, moral or physical,
grow in the soil best suited for them.
Show me a deep and tenacious earth —
and I am sure the oak will spring up
in it. In a low and damp soil I am
equally certain of the alder and the
willow. Gentlemen, the free Parlia-
ment of a free People is the native soil
of eloquence — and in that soil will it
ever flourish and abound — there it will
produce those intellectual effects which
driTe before them whole tribes and na-
tions of the human race, and settle the
destinies of man. And, gentlemen, if
a few persons of a less elegant and
aristocratic description were to become
members of the Honse of Commons,
where would be the eyil ? They would
probably understand the common peo-
ple a great deal better, and in this way
the feelings and interests of all classes
of people would be better represented.
The House of Commons thus organised
will express more faithfully the opinions
of the people.

The people are sometimes, it is nrged,
grossly mistaken; but are Kings never
mistaken ? Are the higher orders never
mistaken? — never wilfully corrupted
by their own interests ? The people
have at least this superiority, that they
always intend to do what is right.

The argument of fear is very easily
disposed of: he who is afraid of a knock
00. the head or & cut on the cheek is a
coward; he who is afraid of entailing
greater evils on the country by refusing
the remedy than by applying it, and
who acts in pursuance of that convic<
tion, is a wise and prudent man —
nothing can be more different than
personal and political fear; it is the
artifice of our opponents to confound
them together.

The right of disfranchisement, gen-
tlemen, must exist somewhere, and
where but in Parliament? If not, how
Was the Scotch Union, how was the
Irish Union, effected? The Duke of
Wellington's Administration disfran-
chised at one blow 200,000 Irish voters
—for no fault of theirs, and for no
other reason than the best of all rea-
B0Q8, that public expediency required

it. These very same politicians are
now looking in an agony of terror at
the disfranchisement of Corporations
containing twenty or thirty persons,
sold to their representatives, who are
themselves perhaps sold to the Govern-
ment: and to put an end to these
enormous abuses is called Corporation
robbery, and there are some persons
wild enough to talk of compensation.
This principle of compensation you
will consider perhaps in the following
instance to have been carried as far as
sound discretion permits. When I was
a young man, the place in England I
remember as most notorious for high-
waymen and their exploits was Finch-
ley Common, near the metropolis; but
Finchley Common, gentlemen, in the
progress of improvement, came to be
enclosed, and liie highwaymen lost by
»these means the opportunity of exer-
cising their gallant vocation. I remem-
ber a friend of mine proposed to draw
up for them a petition to the House of
Commons for compensation, which ran
in this manner — "We, your loyal
highwaymen of Finchley Conmion and
its neighbourhood, having, at great
expense, laid in a stock of blunder-
busses, pistols, and other instruments
for plundering the public, and finding
ourselves impeded in the exercise of
our calling by the said enclosure of
the said Common of Finchley, humbly
petition your Honourable House will
be pleased to assign to us such com-
pensation as your Honourable House
in its wisdom and justice may think
fit." — Gentlemen, I must leave tho
application to you.

An Honourable Baronet says, if Par-
liament is dissolved, I will go to my
Borongh with the bill in my hand, and
will say, ** I know of no crime you have
committed, I found nothing proved
against you: I voted against the biU,
and am come to fling myself upon your
kindness, with the hope that my con-
duct will be approved, and that you
will return me again to Parliament'*
That Honourable Baronet may, per-
haps, receive from his Borough an
answer he little expects — "We are
above being bribed by such a childish
and unworthy artifice ; we do not choose

p 2

212

SPEECH AT TAUNTON.

to consnit our own interest at the ex-
pense of the general peace and happi-
ness of the country; we are thoroughly
convinced a Reform ought to take place ;
we are very willing to sacrifice a privi-
lege we ought never to have possessed
to the good of the community, and we
will return no one to Parliament who
is not deeply impressed with the same
feeling." This, I hope, is the answer
that gentlcmen^will receive; and this,
I hope, will be the noble and generous
feeling of every Borough in England.
The greater part of human improve-
ments, gentlemen, I am sorry to say,
are made after war, tumult, bloodshed,
and civil commotion : mankind seem
to object to every species of gratuitous
happiness, and to consider every ad-
vantage as too cheap, which is not
purchased by some calamity. I shall
esteem it as a singular act of God's<
providence, if this great nation, glided
by these warnings of history, not wait-
ing till tumult for Beform, nor trusting
Beform to the rude hands of the lowest
of the people, shall amend their de-
cayed institutions at a period when
they are ruled by a popular Monarch,
guided by an upright Minister, and
blest with profound peace.

SPEECH AT TAUNTON.
[From the Taunton Courier.'}

Mb. Chairhan, — I am particularly
happy to assist on this occasion, be-
cause I think that the accession of the
present King is a marked and import-
ant era in English history. Another
coronation has taken place since I have
been in the world, but I never assisted
at its celebration. I saw in it a change
of masters, not a change of system. I
did not understand the joy which it
occasioned. I did not feel it, and I did
not counterfeit what I did not feel.

I think very differently of the ac-
cession of his present Majesty. I be-
lieve I see in that accession a great
probability of serious improvement,
and a great increase of public happi-
ness. The evils which have been long
complained of by bold and intelligent

men are now anirersally admitted.
The public feeling, which has been so
often appealed to, is now intensely
excited. The remedies which have so
often been called for are now at last,
vigorously, Mrisely, and faithfully ap-
plied. I admire, gentlemen, in the
present King, his love of peace — I
admire in him his disposition to econ-
omy, and I admire in him, above all,
his faithful and honourable condact to
those who happen to be his ministers.
He was, I believe, quite as faithful to
the Duke of Welling^n as to Lord
Grey, and would, I have no doubt, be
quite as faithful to the political enemies
of Lord Grey (if he thought fit to
employ them) as he is to Lord Grey
himself. There is in this reign no
secret influence, no double ministry —
on whomsoever he confers the office, to
him he gives that confidence without
which the office cannot be holden with
honour, nor executed with effect He
is not only a peaceful King, and an
economical King, but he is an honest
King. So far, I believe, every indi-
vidual of this company will go with
me. There is another topic of ealo-
gium, on which, before I sit down, I
should like to say a few words — I mean
the willingness of our present King to
investigate abuses, and to reform them.
If this subject be not unpleasant, I will
offer upon it a very few observations —
n few, because the subject is exhausted,
and because, if it .were not, I have no
right, from my standing or my situation
in this county, to detain you long upon
that or any other subject.

In criticising this great question of
Beform, I think there is some injustice
done to its authors. Men seem to
suppose that a minister can sit dowa
and make a plan of reform with as
much ease and as much exactness, and
with as complete a gratification of his
own will, as an architect can do in
building or altering a house. But ft
minister of state (it should be in justice
observed) works in the midst of hatred,
injustice, violence, and the worst of
human passions — his works are not
the works of calm and unembarrassed
wisdom — they are not the best that a
dreamer of dreams can imagine. Ici^

SPEECH AT TAUNTON.

213

enough if they are the hest plans which
the passions, parties, and prejudices of
the times in which he acts will permit.
In passing a Reform Bill the minister
overthrows the long and deep interest
which powerful men have in existing
abuses — he subjects himself to the
deepest hatred, and encounters the
bitterest opposition. Auxiliaries he
must have, and auxiliaries he can only
find among the people — not the mob —
bnt the great mass of those who have
opinions worth hearing, and property
worth defending — a greater mass, I
am happy to say, in this country than
exists in any other country on the face
of the earth. Now, before the middling
orders will come forward with one great
impulse, they must see that something
is offered them worth the price of con-
tention ; they must see that the object
is great and the gain serious. If you
call them in at all, it must not be to
displace one faction at the expense of
another, but to put down all factions^-
to substitute purity and principle for
corraption — to give to the many that
political power which the few have un«
justly taken to themselves — to get rid
of evils so ancient and so vast that any
other arm than the public arm would
be lifted np against them in vain.
This, then, I say, is one of the reasons
why ministers have been compelled to
make their measure a little more vigor-
ous and decisive than a speculative
philosopher, sitting in his closet, might
approve of. They had a mass of
opposition to contend with, which could
be'encountered only by a general exer-
tion of public spirit — they had a long
suffering and an often deceived public
to appeal to, who were determined to
suffer no longer, and to be deceived no
more. The idternative was to continue
the ancient abuses, or to do what they
have done — and most firmly do I be-
lieve that you and I, and the latest
posterity of us all, will rejoice in the
decision they have made. Gradation
has been called for in reform : we
might, it is said, have taken thirty or
forty years to have accomplished what
we have done in one year. ** It is not
so much the magnitude of what you
are doing we object to, as the sadden-

»

ness." Bnt was not gradation ten-
dered ? Was it not said by the friends
of reform — ** Give us Birmingham and
Manchester, and we will be satisfied"?
and what was the answer ? ** No
Manchester, no Birmingham, no reform
in any degree — all abuses as they are
— all perversions as we have found
them — the corruptions which our
fathers bequeathed us we will hand
down unimpaired and unpurified to our
children." But I would say to the
graduate philosopher, — "How often
does a reforming minister occur ?" and
if such are so common that you can
command them when you please, how
often does a reforming monarch occur?
and how often does the conjunction of
both occur ? Are you sure that a
people, bursting into new knowledge,
and speculating on every public event,
will wait for your protracted reform ?
Strike while the iron is hot — up with
the arm and down with the hammer,
and up again with the arm, and down
again with the hammer. The iron is
hot — the opportunity exists now — if
you neglect it, it may not return for a
hundred years to come.

There is an argument I have often
heard, a^d that is this — Are we to be
afraid ? — is this measure to be carried
by intimidation ? — is the House of
Lords to be overawed ? But this style
of argument proceeds irom confound-
ing together two sets of feelings which
are entirely distinct — personal fear
and political fear. If I am afraid of
voting against this bill, because a mob
may gather about the House of Lords
— because stones may be flung at my
head — because my house may be at-
tacked by a mob, I am a poltroon, and
unfit to meddle with public afiairs; but
I may rationally be afraid of producing
great public agitation — I may be
honourably afraid of flinging people
into secret clubs and conspiracies — I
may be wisely afraid of making the
aristocracy hateful to the great body. of
the people. This surely has no more
to do with fear than a loose identity of
name ; it is in fact prudenoe of the
highest order ; the deliberate reflection
of a wise man, who does not like what
he is going to do, but likes still less the

p 3

214

SPEECH AT TAUNTON

conseqnences of not doing it, and who
of two eyils chooses the least.

There are some men much afraid of
what is to happen : mj lively hope of
good is, I confess, mingled with very
little apprehension ; but of one thing I
must be candid enough to say that I
am much afraid, and that is of the
opinion now increasing, that the people
are become indifferent to reform ; and
of that opinion I am afraid, because I
believe in an evil hour it may lead some
misguided members of the Upper
House of Parliament to vote against
the 'bill. As for the opinion itself, I
hold it in the utmost contempt The
people are waiting in virtuous patience
for the completion of the bill, because
they know it is in the hands of men
who do not mean to deceive them. I
do not believe they have given up one
atom of reform — I do not believe
that a great people were ever before so
firmly bent upon any one measure. I
put it to any man of common sense,
whether he believes it possible, after
the King and Parliament have acted as
they have done, that the people will
ever be content with much less than
the present bill contains. li a con-
trary principle be acted upon, and the
bill attempted to be got rid of alto-
gether, I confess I tremble for the con-
sequences, which I believe will be of
the worst and most painful description ;
and this I say deliberately, after the
most diligent and extensive inquiry.
Upon that diligent inquiry, I repeat
again my firm conviction; that the de-
sire of reform has increased, not
diminished ; that the present repose is
not indifference, but the calmness of
victory, and the tranquillity of success.
When I see all the wishes and appetites
of created beings changed, when I see
an eagle, that, after long confinement,
has escaped into the air, come back to
his cage and his chain, — when I see
the emancipated negro asking again
for the hoe which has broken down his
strength, and the lash which has tor-
tured his body, I will then, and not till
then, believe that the English people
will return to their ancient degradation
— that they will hold out their repent-
ant hands for those manacles which at

this moment lie broken into links at
their feet.

SPEECH AT TAUNTON.

[From the Taunitm Courier, of October
12th. 1831.3

Thb Ketbrend Stdnet Smith rose
and said: — Mr. Bailiff, I have spoken
so often on this subject, that I am sure
both yon and the gentlemen here pre-
sent will be obliged to me for saying
but little, and that favour I am as will-
ing to confer, as you can be to receive
it. I feel most deeply the event which
has taken place, because, by putting
the two Houses of Parliament in col-
lision with each other, it will impede
the public business, and diminish the
public prosperity. I feel it as a church-
man, because I cannot but blush to see
so many dignitaries of the Church
arrayed against the wishes and happi-
ness of the people. I feel it more than
all, because I believe it will sow the
seeds of deadly hatred between the
aristocracy and the great mass of the
people. The loss of the bill I do not
feel, and for the best of all possible
reasons — because I have not the
slightest idea that it is lost. I have no
more doubt, before the expiration of
the winter, that this bill will pass, than
I have that the annual tax bills will
pass, and greater certainty than this no
man can have, for Franklin tells us,
there are but two things certain in this
world — death and taxes. As for the
possibility of the House of Lords pre-
venting ere long a reform of Parlia-
ment, I hold it to be the most absurd
notion that ever entered into human
imagination. I do not mean to be dis-
respectful, but the attempt of the Lords
to stop the progress of reform, reminds
me very forcibly of the great storm of
Sidmouth, and of the conduct of the
excellent Mrs. Partington on that
occasion. In the winter of 1824, there
set in a great flood upon that town —
the tide rose to an incredible height-—
the waves rushed in upon the houses,
and everything was threatened with
destruction. In the midst of this sub-
lime and terrible storm. Dame Par-
tington, who lived upon die beach, was

SPEECH ON THE REFORM BUX.

215

seen at the door of her house with mop
and pattens, trundling her mop, squeez-
ing out the sea-water, and vigorously
pushing away the Atlantic Ocean.
The Atlantic was roused. Mrs. Par-
tington's spirit was up ; but I need not
tell you that the contest was unequal.
The Atkntic Ocean beat Mrs. Par-
tington. She was exceUent at a slop,
or a puddle, but she should not have
meddled with a tempest. Gentlemen,
be at your ease — be quiet and steady.
You will beat Mrs. Partington.

They tell you, gentlemen, in the de-
bates by which we have been lately
occupied, that the bill is not justified
by experience. I do not think this
trae ; but if it were true, nations are
sometimes compelled to act without
experience for their guide, and to trust
to their own sagacity for the anticipa-
tion of consequences. The instances
where this country has been compelled
thus to act have been so eminently suc-
cessful, that I see no cause for fear,
even if we were acting in the manner
imputed to us by our enemies. What
precedents and what experience were
there at the Reformation, when the
country, with one unanimous effort,
pushed out the Pope, and his grasping
and ambitious clergy? — What ex-
perience, when at the Revolution we
drove away our ancient race of kings,
and chose another family, more con-
genial to our free principles ? — And
yet to those two events, contrary to
experience, and unguided by prece-
dents, we owe all our domestic happi-
ness, and civil and religious freedom —
and having got rid of corrupt priests,
and despotic kings, by our sense and
our courage, are we now to be intimi-
dated by the awful danger of extin-
guishing Boronghmongers, and shaking
from our neck the ignominious yoke
which their baseness has imposed upon
it ? Go on, they say, as you have done
for these hundred years last past. I
answer it is impossi'^le; five hundred
I)eople now write and read, where one
hnndred wrote and read fifty years ago.
The iniquities and enormities of the
borough system are now known to the
meanest of the people. You have a
different sort of men to deal with—

yon must change because the beings
whom you govern are changed. After
all, and to be short, I must say that ir
has always appeared to me to be the
most absolute nonsense that we cannot
be a great, or a rich and happy nation,
without suffering ourselves to be bought
and sold every five years like a pack of
negro slaves. I hope I am not a very
rash man, but I would launch boldly
into this experiment without any fear
of consequences, and I believe there is
not a man here present who would not
cheerfully embark with me. As to the
enemies of the bill, who pretend to be
reformers, I know them, I believe,
better than you do, and I earnestly
caution yon against them. You will
have no more of reform than they are
compelled to grant — you will have no
reform at all, if they can avoid it —
you will be hurried into a war to turn
your attention from reform. They do
not understand you — they will not
believe in the improvement you have
made — they think the English of the
present day are as the English of the
times of Queen Anne or Greorge the
First. They know no more of the
present state of their own country,
than of the state of the Esquimaux
Indians. Gentlemen, 1 view the ignor-
ance of the present state of the country
with the most serious concern, and I
believe they will one day or another
waken into conviction with horror and
dismay. I will omit no means of
rousing them to a sense of their dan-
ger ; — for this object, I cheerfully sign
the petition proposed by Dr. Kinglake,
which I consider to be the wisest and
most moderate of the two.

SPEECH BY
THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH.

Stick to the Bill — it is your Magna
Charta, and your Runnymede. King
John made a present to the Barons.
King William has made a similar
present to you. Never mind ; com-
mon qualities good in common times.
If a man does not vote for the Bill, he
is unclean — the plague-spot is upon
him — push him into the lazaretto of

216

SPEECH ON THE REFOBM BILL.

the last centnrj, with Wetherell and
Sadler — purifj the air before 70a
approach him — bathe your hands in
Chloride of lime, if yon have been
contaminated by his touch.

So far from its being a merely theo-
retical improvement, I put it to any
man, who is himself embarked in a
profession, or has sons in the same
situation, if the unfair influence of
Boronghmongers has not perpetually
thwarted him in his lawful career of
ambition and professional emolument?
** I have been in three general engage-
ments at sea," said an old sailor —
** have been twice wounded ; — I com-
manded the boats when the French
frigate, the Astrolabe, was cut out so
gallantly." **Then you are made a
Post Captain ? *' ** No. I was very
near it; but — Lieutenant Thompson
cut me out, as I cut out the French
frigate ; his father is Town Clerk of

the Borough for which Lord F

is Member, and there my chance was
finished.*' In the same manner, all over
England, you will find great scholars
rotting on curacies — brave captains
starving in garrets — profound lawyers
decayed and mouldering in the Inns of
Court, because the parsons, warriors,
and advocates of Boroughmongers
must be crammed to saturation, belbre
there is a tnorsel of bread for the man
who does not sell his votes, and put his
country up to auction ; and though
this is of every day occurrence, the
Borough system, we are told, is no
practical evil.

Who can bear to walk through a
slaughter-house ? blood, garbage, sto-
machs, entrails, legs, tails, kidneys,
horrors— V I often wiUk a mile about to
avoid it. What a scene of disgust and
horror is an election — the base and
infamous traffic of principles — a can-
didate of high character reduced to
such means — the perjury and evasion
of agents — the detestable rapacity of
voters — the ten days' dominion of
mammon, and Belial. The Bill lessens
it — begins the destruction of such
practices — affords some chance, and
some means of turning public opinion
against bribery^ and of rendering it
infamous.

But the thing I cannot, and will not
bear, is this ; — what right has this Lord,
or tiuU Marquis, to buy ten seats in
Parliament, in the shape of Boroughs,
and then to make laws to govern me ?
And how are these masses of power re-
distributed ? The eldest son of my
Lord is just come from Eton — he
knows a good deal about ^neas and
Dido, Apollo and Daphne — and that
is all ; and to this boy his father gives
a six-hundredth part of the power of
making laws, as he would give him a
horse or a double-barrelled gun. Then
Vellum, the steward, is put in — an
admirable man : — he has raised the
estates — watched the progress of the
family Bead and Canal Bills — and
Vellum shall help to rule over the
people of Israel. A neighbouring
country gentleman, Mr. Plumpkin,
hunts with my lord-— opens him a gate
or two, while the hounds are running
— dines with my Lord — agrees with
my Lord — wishes he could rival the
South-Down sheep of my Lord — and
upon Plumpkin is conferred a portion
of the government. Then there is a
distant relation of the same name, in
the County Militia, with white teeth,
who calls up the carriage at the Opera,
and is always wishing 0*Connell was
hanged, drawn, and quartered — then
a barrister, who has Mrritten an article
in the Quarterly, and is very likely to
speak, and refute M'Culioch ; and these
five people, in whose nomination I have
no more agency than I have in the
nomination of the toll-keepers of the
Bosphorus, are to make laws for me
and my family — to put their hands in
my purse, and to sway the futore
destinies of this country ; and when
the neighbours step in, and beg per-
mission to say a few words before these
persons are chosen, there is an universal
cry of ruin, confusion, and destruction;
— we have become a great people under
Vellum and Plumpkin — under Vellum
and Plumpkin our ships have covered
the ocean — under Vellum and Plump-
kin our armies have secured the
strength of the Hills — to turn ont
Vellum and Plumpkin is not Beform,
but Revolution.

Was there ever such a Ministiy?

SPEECH ON THE REFORM BILL.

217

Was there ever before a real Ministry
of the people ? Look at the condition
of the coantrj when it was placed in
their hands : the state of the house
when the incoming tenant took posses-
sion: windows broken, chimneys on
fire, mobs round the house threatening
to pull it down, roof tumbling, rain
pouring in. It was courage to occupy
it ; it was a miracle to save it ; it will
be the glory of glories to enlarge and
expand it, and to make it the eternal
palace of wise and temperate freedom.
Proper examples have been made
among the unhappy and misguided
disciples of Swing : a rope has been
carried round O^Connell's legs, and a
ring inserted in Gobbett's nose. Then
the Game Laws ! ! ! Was ever conduct
60 shabby as that of the two or three
governments which preceded that of
Lord Grey ? The cruelties and enor-
mities of this code had been thoroughly
exposed; and a general conviction
existed of the necessity of a change.
Bills were brought in by various gen-
tlemen, containing some trifling alte-
ration in this abominable code, and
even these were sacrificed to the tricks
and manoeuvres of some noble Nimrod,
who availed himself of the emptiness
of the town in July, and flung out the
Bill Government never stirred a step.
The fulness of the prisons, the wretch-
edness and demoralisation of the poor,
never came across them. The humane
and considerate Peel never once ofiered
to extend his aegis over them. It had
nothing to do with the state of party ;
and some of their double-barrelled
voters might be offended. In the
meantime, for every ten pheasants
which fluttered in the wood, one En-
glish peasant was rotting in gaol. No
sooner is Lord Althorp Chancellor of
the Exchequer, than he turns out of
the house a trumpery and (perhaps) an
insidious Bill for the improvement of
the Game Laws ; and in an instant
oflers the assistance of Government
for the abolition of the whole code.

Then look at the gigantic Brougham,
sworn in at 12 o'clock, and before 6
has a bill on the table, abolishing the
abuses of a Court which has been the
curse of the people of England for

centuries. For twenty-five long years
did Lord Eldon sit in that Court, sur-
rounded with misery and sorrow, which
he never held up a finger to alleviate.
The widow and the orphan cried to
him as vainly as the town crier cries
when he oflers a small reward for a full
purse ; the bankrupt of the Court be-
came the lunatic of the Court, estates
mouldered away, and mansions fell
down ; but the fees came in, and all
was well. But in an instant the iron
mace of Brougham shivered to atom;)
this house of fraud and of delay ; and
this is the man who will help to govern
you ; who bottoms his reputation on
doing good to you ; who knows, that
to reform abuses is the safest basis of
fame, and the surest instrument of
power ; who uses the highest gifts of
reason, and the most splendid efforts of
genius, to rectify those abuses, which
all the genius and talent of the pro-
fession * have hitherto been employed
to justify, and to protect. Look to
Brougham, and turn you to that side
where he waves his long and lean
finger ; and mark well that face which
nature has marked so forcibly — which
dissolves pensions — turns jobbers into
honest men — scares away ihe plun-
derer of the public — and is a terror
to him who doeth evil to the people.
But, above all, look to the Northern
Earl, victim, before this honest and
manly reign, of the spitefulness of the
Court. You may now, for the first
time, learn to trust in the profession